


the price of peace

by 9Melodious_Nocturne9, the_forgotten_daydreamer



Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender [12]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Angst, Blood and Gore, Breeding Program, Emperor Keith, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galtean Lotor, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injured Lance, Injured Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith and Lance angst, Keith angst, Lance Angst, Langst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pregnant Character, Sick Keith (Voltron), Vomiting, War and casualties, injured keith, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22481500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9Melodious_Nocturne9/pseuds/9Melodious_Nocturne9, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_forgotten_daydreamer/pseuds/the_forgotten_daydreamer
Summary: Keith is the Galra Emperor, and Lance is the Altean Prince: the young leaders are willing to put an end to the cruel war between their empires, and surely peace will come, but at what cost?-Written by:the_forgotten_daydreamerMain idea and Beta work:9Melodious_Nocturne9
Relationships: Haggar & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Lotor (Voltron)
Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680511
Comments: 59
Kudos: 162





	1. the Princes

**Author's Note:**

> My lovely beta had this idea a while ago and I never found the time to write it until now, ops.  
> This chapter's very descriptive and slow, but don't run away! The real story begins with chapter two, which will be much more interesting and dynamic, so bear with us, please! Still, please do read chapter one, because some important stuff is said in there and you wouldn't understand the story without it.  
> All the other chapters are already planned out and won't take much to write, so we solemnly promise weekly updates, pinky swear ;)  
> Without further ado, please enjoy~!  
> (I DO NOT OWN VLD)

Three thousand, two hundred fifty-one quintants. Almost nine deca-phoebs.

And over fifty thousand casualties among soldiers, civilians, children and elders.

Foreign thieves and orphans- desperate for food and shelter, nobody left to take care of them- populated the streets of the suburbs, barely causing any noise, any movement, any indication of what one would define as a wealthy, well-functioning society.

And hunger, thirst, pain, despair.

Dying creatures crept in dark and smelly alleys, diseases long-extinct spreading once again as medications of any kind had stopped circulating due to prohibition imposed by the Galra leader.

No food except for what one’s territory could grow, no water except for the smelly, nearly poisonous liquid one could find in the dirty wells, forgotten and dilapidated.

Galra patrols, scarce and beaten, walked down the streets with the sole goal of inducing fear and panic among the subjects of the empire, in a faint attempt to eradicate hidden Alteans, Marmora people trying to flee or, worse, possible _candidates_ for the breeding project commanded by Lord Shirogane, the Supreme Emperor.

His dark eyes, cold and sharp, stood vividly against the mauve fur that covered his sturdy body, the only visible skin being the thin scar across his muzzle. His left ear too had no fur on its tip, mangled and scarred after a brutal fight.

Ever since he had taken the throne- rumor has that he actually murdered his own father for that- more than fifteen decaphoebs prior, the Galra population had started severely decreasing, only three or four newborns seeing the light every spicolian movement, and surely not enough to replace the goners in the frontlines.

In order to solve this issue, the Galran Lord Commander had established a cruel, terrifying reproductive program, harvesting every omega he could find and forcing them to get impregnated by whatever alpha was assigned to them. One child every nine months, two in extremely rare cases. The parturients were allowed half a phoeb to recuperate; not that Lord Shirogane cared, but he needed strong and healthy parturients in order to have better chance of enlarging his empire. Then, the unlucky omegas were sent back to the dungeon immediately, the cycle repeating itself.

Not many had managed to survive more than four cycles, their bodies giving in and collapsing, lifeless; the alphas forced to breed were subject to the same fate, spent and tired, ashamed, conflicted.

Many of both categories had tried and eventually succeeded in taking their life.

That’s what that war had brought so far: death. 

Despite the brutality of the idea, Shirogane’s plan had worked: the Galra population had tripled in a relatively short time, more and more soldiers joining the war every passing decaphoeb, cannon fodder ready to go, quite literally. Alteans weren't excessively armed, yet their blatantly superior technology outsmarted the Galra's, hulling the soldiers from inside with long-range beams.

Out of all the things that could’ve taken his life, between battles, treason and attempted assassinations, it was a rare and incurable terminal illness to have the best on Lord Shirogane, putting his wrecked and corrupted mind to rest for good.

The Galra people didn’t seem to care, as one day after their emperor’s death, they all went back to their ordinary life, made of strive and tragedy.

What set the council on edge, however, was the man who had been chosen as the new Galra Emperor: he'd rarely been seen by the people before his coronation, the ceremony short and plain, and this made the new leader not trustworthy to the Galra's eyes. He was not respected nor feared, and that wasn't normal for them, those high-ranked people so used to such a headstrong, self-assured, intimidating emperor, fascinated by his coldness and sheer power. The poor, obviously, could not be happier to have a seemingly quiet leader, who would maybe ease the pressure on them or at least not torture innocents for fun. They hoped that sparing that, at least, this new emperor would spare them further misery and humiliation.

This new emperor, Lord Kogane, was Shirogane’s half-brother. Not one with royal blood, no.

Just a random foundling that the old Emperor’s family had taken in out of pity, not treating him as an equal.

His step-parents didn't see much in him, but their kid- once so pure and innocent- had a soft spot for him. They decided to take the orphan him as a _treat_ for their only son. Still, strangely enough, Shirogane didn't treat the new boy as a pet nor as an occasional nobody to talk to. He genuinely liked his step-brother, and that was widely known among the family itself and the Galra people; that’s why the rich had to respect the young Prince, willy-nilly.

Still, when the new Emperor accepted the crown, everybody collectively stopped fearing the high command. This, however, didn’t mean that the abuses on Marmorites and Altean prisoners and to those assigned to the breeding program would stop. 

It didn’t stop at all; on the contrary, it got worse.

Why would those armed people listen to a child with absolutely no merit to him if not being part of the royal dynasty?

The commanders kept committing violence of all kind, carefree and in a more reckless way, messing up with their victims, capturing _suspects_ with the evident intent of just kicking someone senseless in the guts, for fun. 

Now, the new heir to the throne hid for the majority of the time in his fortress, located far from the city as to avoid any contact with peasants, not worthy enough to come in contact with royal blood.

The entire majestic castle had been built fairly recently, only four generations before the current one, yet it emanated a strangely antique aura; souls of the fallen were believed to be wandering around, haunting the rooms, doomed to be chained to the cradle of their reaper. 

Dimly lit spaces made the building seem small on the inside, despite the truth was entirely another ordreal: the hexagonal perimeter of the main building was surrounded on each side by smaller, sharpened pinnacles that shot up high in the dark sky, its clouds grey and heavy, lilac flashes rumbling faintly over the sound of atmospherics gases howling outside. The pinnacles, once lookout posts, now had the unique function of defense against foreign menaces and possible insurrections, though not one had occurred after Lord Shirogane had taken the throne and repressed with bloodshed the faint attempt of a few Galra pacifists opposing his regime. That was only his second week in command, yet he’d shed more blood and tragedy than his father had done before him in thirty decaphoebs. 

The sun shone faintly on Daibazaal, only visible for six vargas per day through thick, natural clouds. For the rest of the day, the star was unfortunately hidden by the shadow of another planet, long dead; that is why nothing bloomed, the soil only managing to spit out some seeds that could eventually be cultivated with artificial methods that only a few could afford. 

The air was thick and humid, almost unbreathable sometimes, yet rain hadn't poured down from the sky since the beginning of the phoeb.

A bridge, suspended above an abyssal emptiness- probably caused by an earthquake that happened thousand of decaphoebs ago, too far in time to be remembered- that was referred to as " _The Barathrum",_ led the way from the outer part of the city to the main building, squadrons constantly supervising the traffic and terminating suspects on the spot, not questioning the victims nor their own choices. The guards- bots, mainly- would simply roll the corpses towards the void, in which they’d fall, silent. 

Keith, the new Emperor, stood by his room’s narrow window, arms folded behind his back, as he witnessed yet another cruelty being committed at his threshold. 

His mauve fur, soft and shiny, covered his slim body, limbs well proportioned and not excessively muscular, yet strong. Dark, narrow pupils stood vividly against bright yellow scleras, and pierced whatever stood before them with a peculiar intensity, so focused as they were scrutinizing one’s soul, reaching new depths. The fangs in Keith’s mouth were short yet pointy, still not too evident at first sight; his lips were soft and constantly pressed in a thin line, façade necessary to be kept alive in the cruel world he lived in. His ears, pointy and narrow, stood elegantly on his corvine hair, pitch black just like his thick eyebrows, cute creases forming between them as Keith frowned. 

The imperial burgundy armor, so sturdy and completely inelegant, seemed almost loose on the young emperor: it covered him from the neck to his feet, leaving only his head and hands out and visible. Heavy boots covered his calves and feet, and a black drape elegantly cascaded from his fakingly broad shoulders to his feet, dragging across the metal floors of the Castle. Finally, a thin loop of what resembled gold encircled his head, a shining purple gem at its center: that crown had been passed down from leader to leader for thousands of decaphoebs, yet Keith was the first one of mixed-race to be allowed to wear it.

A bastard, that’s what he was at the end of the day.

Just a bastard.

The young emperor sighed, his tail nervously curling, as he thought once again of his passed brother: he sure admired and looked up to him, but at the same time he couldn’t help despising his evil doing, and feeling ashamed too. Now, he had the chance to change it all, to free those poor creatures in the dungeon, to open the ports again and let food, medicine and workers from all over the galaxy circulate freely, like it had been many decaphoebes ago.

He did have the chance, but that didn’t mean that everybody would automatically collaborate; no matter how he would’ve explained his point of view, not a single general would have listened to him, and he knew that well. Not collaborating brings war, war brings death, death brings an endless cycle of nothingness: he couldn’t risk it, not now. He’d been the Emperor for roughly two spicolian-movements, and nobody trusted him. _Yet._

Keith jumped when someone knocked on the door, and he cleared his throat, straightening back up, “Come in”.

The hooded presence nodder her head, white hair falling messily out of the cloth as the figure spoke. 

“My Emperor,” Haggar- the Emperor’s ambassador and right hand- spoke, voice croaked, “the council is awaiting for your presence”.

He nodded, “I’m sorry, I’ll be there soon...” he whispered, feeling small and vulnerable in front of that druid.

“Do not apologize, it’s not proper for the Emperor of the universe's most powerful domain" she corrected unenthusiastically, tone plain and almost bored, “You seem hesitant to meet the council. Perhaps we should-”

“No, don't postpone the meeting" the Galra Emperor hurriedly interrupted, clearing his throat again, “I'm… I'm coming, tell them I will be there soon”. 

When the witch left, Keith inhaled slowly attempting to calm down: the woman’s butterscotch eyes, absent yet omniscient, gave him chills every time, her austere presence menacing and mysterious, the lingering smell of death following her close.

He’d never liked her; honestly, he’d never liked any member of the court. His _parents_ were probably the only ones who treated Keith as family, but his brother and the others… Sure, they were kind to him, but not loving. Not one single bit.

Keith inhaled shakily, and headed toward the council room, fixing his stance and briefly looking in the mirrors that covered the dark corridor walls, stroking his hair back and caressing his lower abdomen, the uterus inside empty, omega hormones well hidden. He sighed.

_I can’t let them know about this. Not now._

-

The presents in the room stood solemnly as their emperor entered, who walked proud and fierce, almost not sparing the others a single gaze. 

“Vrepit sa!” the first council-man chanted, followed by the others, their fist connecting to their chest proudly, yellow eyes low to show respect.

Keith sat down, swallowing nervously- luckily unnoticed- as he elegantly crossed his legs, cape creased under him, folded hands resting on his lap.

“Greetings,” he started, voice as deep as he could manage, “I am sure you are all aware of the reason why I summoned you here?”. It was almost a question, though Keith wished he would pull a more self-assured tone next time.

The witch spoke first, “Yes, My Lord. Yet, we have some… Concerns”

The Galra man cursed under his breath: he was expecting complications, but he hoped he wouldn’t encounter any, given that he was the Emperor. 

“And which would these ‘concerns’ be, Haggar?” he questioned, tone acid, almost revolted at the audacity of the druid.

Silence followed, the tension in the air possible to cut with a butcher knife, everybody’s breath quiet and as unnerving as possible.

“We,” a man- _the Chief of the 4th district,_ Keith recognized him- spoke up timidly, clearing his throat, “we are worried that nothing positive for us would result in a meeting with the Alteans. They want the ‘ _war’_ to end, and we do not wish for such thing… This is not war, and we shall not succumb to their pathetical nonsense”

“Agreed,” another one, _Second in Command for economic affairs,_ nodded energetically, “our army has never been more prolific, and we are now able to invest almost uniquely in weapons and cruisers, as we’ve cut down health and nourishment costs by 84% since the beginning of Lord Shirogane’s breeding program and isolation plan”

“Just like your brother, we thought that you, My Emperor, would proceed with the plan” another figure - _and that’s the Secretary of the council-_ stated almost matter-of-factly. 

“You assumed wrong,” Keith spat through gritted teeth, tone stern and mocking, “yes, some things are about to change. Still, the fact that the emperor’s word is sacred shall remain valid”

“But-”

“We will have a meeting with the Altean Prince and council as soon as possible, and I am going to ask you gentlepeople to collaborate. Since it is my first week, I shall show mercy and avoid threatening you, but I will not hesitate were you to fail me. Am I being clear?” Keith finished, raising from his embroidered seat, his eyes closed and his face unreadable.

The presents collectively replied with their salute, bowing slightly to show further submission.

“Excellent. Haggar?” Keith called, already on his way out, “I do not wish to be disturbed for the rest of the day. You will contact me only to communicate news concerning this meeting, and not for any other reason. Warn the servants too, I do not wish for their assistance today”

“As you command, My Emperor” the witch replied, still bowing her hooded white head.

Keith nodded silently, and exited without another word; once he was safely locked into his personal room, he let out a sigh of relief, running a shaky hand through his hair, disbelief and adrenaline pumping in his veins

 _I can’t believe I actually pulled that off! The look on their faces… I outdid myself this time, honestly,_ he smiled briefly, a serious look soon replacing the smirk.

_Still, I can’t celebrate just yet! Were they to make me drop my act, I would be terminated immediately… I must be careful. But… There’s hope._

With those thoughts, his future looking bright, the Emperor sat at his desk, holographic scenes and words unraveling before his yellow eyes, and he started preparing his speech and peace offering deal. He was unaware of the prying presence lurking in the shadow of his mind.

-elsewhere, three vargas later-

The sun shone brightly on Altea, the fresh morning breeze delicately shaking the leaves and the grass, tiny drops of dew wetting the surface and quickly drying off.

The life in the outskirts wasn’t particularly quiet in this tiring times, as refugees and immigrants who’d managed to escape from the dungeons arrived every day, the farmers’ supplies not enough to help them properly; the Altean government daily sent supplies and support organisations to take care of the situation, but spaces to place the newcomers in were now scarce, and someone was starting to question if _His Majesty_ actually had a plan.

“No, no, wait, stop, I beg you!” someone yelled, out of breath, curled up on the grass, their figure entirely covered by tiny creatures whose hands moved under the victim’s body, “please, I- I can’t take it anymore!”.

The sound of someone approaching was muffled by one desperate cry and many sources of maniacal laughter of sheer enjoyment.

“...What’s going on?” the white-haired man asked hesitantly, raising an eyebrow as he held a binder, papers and documents diligently folded inside of it, and looked down at the scene, raising an eyebrow questioningly. His yellow scleras were bright in opposition to his purple pulis, v-shaped Altean marks under the man’s eyes.

“Ah, my saviour!” the person on the grass called, raising as the creatures still hung from his arms and legs, “rescue me from these fierce beats!” he said, dramatically raising a hand to his forehead as the children who were jokingly assaulting- more like tickling- him laughed, getting down his body. 

The Altean man was tall and thin, his figure seeming to be about to break. Bright lapis eyes, shiny as the tropical ocean illuminated by the sun at midday, stood vividly against his soft, tan skin. A v-shaped mark, turquoise and bright stood under each eye at the far corners; his upturned nose- covered in tiny freckles- completing the perfection of his expression. The Altean’s white hair was short, curly bangs falling gently on his forehead, and at the sides of the face, just in front of his pointy ears, to finely encircle it. His smile was bright and welcoming, friendly, and everything about his stance communicated love and harmony. 

Even the man’s clothing indicated elegant yet casual look: the off-white and cobalt suit he was wearing was tight on him, enveloping the Altean’s narrow and elegant hip bones and limbs, feet now covered by ankle-length boots which were almost identical to the suit, making it hard to distinguish where one started and the other ended. A see-through linen robe- now stained in grass- was draped on his shoulders elegantly. His beauty wasn’t a reason for him to act haughty, and that usually surprised people; still, what surprised them more would be ‘the saviour’ reaching him and placing the royal crown on his head, sighing defeated.

Lotor- Lance’s right hand- did exactly that (and not for the first time), as soon as his prince got up from the grass.

“No, Lance, don’t go!”

“Play with us again!” 

“Please, please, pleeeease, stay with us a bit more!”

The man huffed out a laugh, amused, “Another time, maybe… If Lotor came all the way, it must be serious!” he whispered, finger on his lips as he smirked, “I’ll see you kids around. Now chop chop, school starts soon, doesn’t it?”.

The children groaned simultaneously, but turned around and nodded. “See you soon, Lance!” they waved enthusiastically and left in a hurry, picking their bags up and running away.

He waves as the kids left, but could feel Lotor’s disappointed presence behind him glaring daggers.

“I can expl-”

“It is not safe for the Prince to wander around without bodyguards and it is not proper for him to play with… With peasant infants” Lotor pointed out in a stern tone, as Lance’s shoulders sagged.

“First,” he said, finally facing his advisor, “don’t call them ‘peasants’, and second… Come on! I’ve been working nonstop for the past phoeb, my men are exhausted and if I see another paper to sign I swear I’m gonna barf-”

“Your Highness-”

“Bup bup bup,” Lance interrupted, his long finger on Lotor’s lips, “don’t say anything. Now, what’s the matter? Did you walk for a good varga only to reprimand me?” he asked, removing the grass from his hair and adjusting the crown.

“No,” the advisor replied in his accented voice, “we have been warned that the Galra emperor would like to meet you in order to properly discuss and reach, eventually, an agreement on the matter that has caused this war. The council and I obviously denied it, but-”

“What!?” Lance asked, eyes comically wide and hands flying up in the air, “why- what- man, what the quiznak, why did you do that!?”.

The older man seemed to not understand as he shot a quizzical look to his prince, “Your Majesty, that was evidently a trap, a mere attempt to ambush you and-”

“Do NOT call me like that only to ingratiate me, Lotor! Ugh,” he groaned as he flopped on the grass, “why did you take this decisions without me? Who exactly gave you the authorisation to deny a meeting with the Galra!?”

“It was for a safety matter-”

“What..? ‘Safety matter’?” he laughed hysterically, “Do you guys really want the war to end? I feel like you’re actually enjoying exploiting the misery these poor Galra are going through-” he said, straightening his posture, “I need to contact the Emperor again and beg- because yeah, that’s what I’ll have to do after _you_ slammed the door in his face- I’ll need to beg for a meeting!” he said, storming off.

“Uhm, Prince Lance, the Castle is-”

“The other way, I know!” the other man yelled, passing in front of Lotor again, who followed him closely.

“... I am very sorry for the meeting, Prince Lance. I had no idea that you cared so much for it” Lotor said after a while, Lance almost running in front of him, silent and fuming.

“This perfectly underlines the fact that none of you has ever heard a word I said... How long have I been on the throne? What, eight-something decaphoebs? And I’ve been preaching peace since the very first day, I swear on my dead parents’ lives, may the Ancients kill me on the spot if I’m lying” he shouted, opening his arms and standing still, face toward the sky. 

A few instants later, he started walking again, “See? I’m still alive, meaning that I’m telling the truth!” he screamed exasperatedly in his high pitched voice, “meeting the new Emperor could finally lead us to a deal and put an end to this war that’s been going on for way too much time, don’t you guys get it? Seriously, aren’t you tired of seeing people arriving on Altea with makeshift pods and dying shortly after, too late to be helped and saved? People are dying, Lotor, and not in a natural way”

“Yes, I’m aware of that” the advisor replied methodically, rolling his yellow eyes unseen by the other man.

“I mean, they are _your_ people too! Don’t you care at least one bit?”

Lotor stiffed, and Lance turned around, aware that he had willingly struck a nerve, and crossed his arms, “You care, don’t you?”

“I do. But not because they are ‘my people’, as they’re not. I’m a full-fledged Altean, Your Highness”

“Your skin begs to differ” the Prince noted, nodding to Lotor’s mauve yet hairless skin. He proceeded to sigh sadly, “Look, I get it. They treated you unfairly, but not all of them are-”

“Of course not all of them are abusers,” Lotor scoffed, “I know that. But the Generals and the Emperor… They do not deserve riddance”

“And that’s why they won’t have it, my friend. I’m not saying that we have to forget and forgive their war crimes; what they did and are still doing...” Lance shivered hard at the memory of his last visit to a Marmora safehouse in the outskirts, the victims of the breeding program bruised and bloodied, big handprints covering their already lilac skin, “it’s unacceptable. However, we have to end this war at all costs… We can’t afford any more victims on either side” the Prince explained, his expression grim.

“I know that, Your Majesty...” the advisor said, bowing slightly in an apologetic gesture, “I am mortified for my outburst, that was unprofessional and inappropriate toward you, Your Majesty”.

Lance’s expression sobered, eyes warmer and understanding, “It’s okay, I get that. Just… Just trust me on this one. I’m not the Prince only because I’m part of the royal dynasty, you know?” he said winking, in a faint attempt to lighten the mood, “I’m a great diplomat too! After all these decaphoebs, we’re still standing strong… We’ve had our ups and downs and I take full responsibility for it, but we’re thriving and we will do so for many more decaphoebs if we manage to make peace to the Galra”.

They soon reached the city, welcomed by people's voices, chatting in the streets and living their lives unaware of what could happen to them, and smells of traditional food invading their nostrils. Music came from various shops that were open on the streets, creating a symphony of familiar confusion. Lance smiled at that, fascinated as always by moundanity. 

Blooming gardens surrounded the luxurious buildings that composed the Royal Palace, made of white marble that had been dug out of caves thousands of decaphoebs ago by the former Prince's ancestors, before any real human hierarchy had been established: in fact, the Castle hadn't always had that purpose, but was originally supposed to be a shelter for the few hundreds of Alteans on the planet.

Around the city, but generally on all the planet itself, the grass was so green to be almost blinding when under the planet's sun, and purple juniberry flowers delicately made their way out of the wet soil, a slight drizzle having occurred a few vargas prior. Alteans didn't know rain as most creatures did, yet they were grateful for the water falling instead of rocks. 

Fountains were placed all around Altea- a planet not too wide per se, but vastly populated nonetheless- to provide crystal clear water to its inhabitants. Even with the arrival of Galra and Marmorites immigrants, Altea never lacked the ability to provide enough resources to feed and satisfy everybody, though some goods had been rationed in the past decaphoebs. Despite its ancient looks, Altea was one of the most technologically advanced planets in its system, communication beams so powerful to reach the other end of the cosmo.

Lance arrived at his palace rather quickly, followed by his advisor who raced behind him trying not to drop the binders. The Prince was still furious yet not giving it away, smiling and waving at his fellow citizens, each of which offered him something that he kindly declined, not to be rude, but just to make them save their goods. 

Followed by Lotor, he immediately made his way toward the palace's main cella, once the throne room, now transformed into the Altean Council Chamber- and it sitted the centre of the palace. 

The chamber was surrounded by an elegant colonnade, its pillars slim yet sturdy, allowing fresh air and the sun in. 

As soon as his steps were audible, the people in the room froze, straightening up from their slumber and sitting properly around the table, ready for their leader.

"My Prince!" one of them exclaimed, "where were you? You had us worried sick!"

"Do not baby me now, please. You guys owe me an explanation" he bit, looking at the woman who had spoken- once his governess- with a betrayed look on his face.

"We had to," she simply stated, "you know we cannot and will not willingly risk it with the Galra". Lotor nodded solemnly at that, humming, soon followed by the others too.

"Last time I checked, I was the one in charge, though…" Lance raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, still standing while the other- except for his advisor- were sitting down.

"You still are in charge, My Prince, and will hopefully be for a long time. In all honesty, though, we fear that your…" she sighed, reflecting, and resumed quickly "we fear that your extremely generous and positive attitude may be blinding you and putting you at risk"

"Exactly. We do not doubt your choices and would not even dare to do so, still we had to intervene for the greater good. Forgive us, Prince Lance" another one spoke, genuinely sad that the young Altean was mad.

Lance scoffed, scratching his neck and finally slumping on his upholstered armchair; he had insisted for it to be a normal chair, yet the others would not allow the Prince to sit on 'such a vulgar and anonymous seat', as they had referred to it.

"Look, I appreciate the sentiment and I know you mean good. Yet, I still want to meet the Galra Emperor and I won't change my mind..." he breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We absolutely need to put an end to this war, and if 'putting my life at risk' means saving Alteans and freeing the Marmorites and Galra slaves and prisoners, then I am absolutely down for it. It is my duty as a leader to put my people first and think about me later. Plus, we have no certainty that this new emperor wants to kill me… Sure, if he inherited his brother's genes and hate toward me then I am admittedly doomed, but I don't want to judge without seeing first" he said with a reassuring smile, meeting everyone's gaze.

"My Prince… Are you absolutely sure about it?" Lotor asked after an instant, hesitant and worried.

He nodded simply, his smirk widening. Yet, his eyes were filled with worry and tiredness; Lance was no fool, he know what he was facing, what could be expecting him. He feared death, of course, but not for the reason one would believe: the prince wasn't scared of dying, but of leaving his people alone and helpless against a greater menace.

Many had fallen, people he'd known too. They were all someone's child, someone's parent, someone's sibling, someone's friend. 

Lance knew he would never forgive himself for their death, nor for the Marmorite and Galra's that happened because he didn't have the resources to help them right away. War was taking a toll on him, prying him from his sleep and meals, his mind rarely unoccupied by terrifying thoughts.

Egotistically speaking, that was an extra reason for him to wish the end of the war: he wanted to rest, at last. He wanted to have a family, to please his people and whoever came to him and see them thrive, to be happy and at peace.

He kept this for himself, not knowing that someone else shared his sentiment in the most sincere way, nor that someone profited from his despair.

"I'll contact the Garla and-"

"No," Lance interrupted Lotor, slightly raising his hand, "I'll do it, do not worry about it. You are all dismissed, I made you worry too much for today" he said, smirking. The others bowed and left hurriedly, not wanting to stress their prince out even further.

"You too, man… Go have fun, we have a full week up ahead!" Lance added with a smirk, knowing that his advisor had no intention to leave. He did anyway, though.

Once he was alone, Lance sighed, and prepared to contact his former enemy, unaware of the lurking figure around the corner.


	2. the meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that the next update won't take forty days; ten tops, pinky swear. Shout-out to my amazing beta for bearing with me: I love you, bro! ;-;  
> The chapter gets a bit, huh, nasty toward the end, but it's in the tags so technically you should be prepared for that.  
> Without further ado, please enjoy!

Lance breathed out softly, gasping as soon as the communication with one of the many haughty Galra generals- not the Emperor himself, oddly enough- ended. He sat there, leg not even bouncing anymore, air still and silent.

_Oh Ancients…_

They had really accepted. 

The Galra had accepted Lance’s offer, despite he- or well, his council- had refused at first; they had mercy on him and gave his people a second chance to make amends, to reach an agreement. The new, unknown Galra Emperor wanted to collaborate to this.

It didn’t seem possible to the young prince, who sat on his throne bewildered, elbows propped up on the table and hands in his white air, eyes wide for the shock. It was real, all of the sudden. Too real.

He had a chance to end the war, to avenge those who had perished during the senseless conflict, to put their souls at peace, to provide a better future for everybody.

 _Tomorrow_.

The faint pattern of footsteps- and Lance could distinguish it clearly- approached him from behind, halting a few feet back. The Prince could exactly picture his advisor’s stance in that moment: straight back and head up high, expression blank, legs slightly apart and hands folded behind his back, above his long hair. He glanced back and found precisely that.

“We did it, Lotor...” the Altean leader whispered, mouth quivering in a joyful smile, “Tomorrow I’ll meet the Emperor and we’ll put an end to all of this!” he exclaimed, bolting out of his chair and raising his hands in the air, engaging in a short, ungraceful victory-dance.

The advisor nodded, standing impassable, “I’m glad for it, My Prince”

“You could at least pretend to be a bit happy, you know...” Lance muttered, recomposing himself and adjusting the crown that had started to fall off.

“I’m sorry,” Lotor replied with a tiny smile, almost imperceptible, “I am sincerely glad that you made up for our unforgivable mistake, yet I am concerned, as you already know”

“Yes, I do. But,” the man spoke, cradling the advisor’s hands in his in a fraternal gesture, “you know I wouldn’t do something reckless”

A pause, unsaid words lingering heavily.

“Well… Something _too_ reckless, let’s say” Lance corrected himself to lighten the mood, and Lotor actually let out a laugh.

The half-blood recollected himself quickly and nodded, after Lance freed his hands from the reassuring grip. 

“I suppose you will need to write a speech or prepare something to convince the Emperor, My Lord..?”

“Oh yes, please; you know I’m terrible at improvising. I need a script and I need your help, please” the Prince said, eyes shining in gratitude. Lotor sat down, tablet in his hands, and started typing whatever Lance was babbling about, correcting his mistakes and finding a more proper way to say what he struggled to intend. The Altean leader paced back and forth, gesticulating widely and raising his voice to put emphasis in his words, stopping every now and then to make sure that Lotor was understanding what he tried to spit out- because he was aware that, sometimes, he was way too confusing to be understood naturally.

A couple of vargas later, the ‘script’ was done, and the advisor promptly handed the tablet to his prince, waiting for the verdict.

“Lotor, my man, you outdid yourself! This,” Lance said, amazed as he scrolled up and down the screen, “this is amazing, honestly. Are you a wannabe writer or something?” he teased, “Oh, I get it, you write poems to impress the ladies… Or the boys, or, well, people you like? Classic Lotor...” Lance joked, elbowing the advisor who still sat down, mouth into a thin line, eyes half-lidded in embarrassment.

He didn’t take the bait, so Lance pushed further, raising an eyebrow allusively, “So?”

The other shrugged, blushing imperceptibly, “I just wish to humbly satisfy you, Your Majesty”

“And you did. Please, take the day off or, I don’t know, tell me how to reward you”

“Prince Lance, it is not proper for someone in your position to ‘reward’ a servant for merely… Well… Serving you”

The prince huffed out a laugh, “We’ve known each other for a decade, Lotor, and you’ve been close to me ever since. I do consider you as my friend, before thinking of you as an advisor. So please,” he said, dragging the ‘e’ longer than needed, “tell me how to return the favour!”

The man thought about it for an instant before rising from his seat and grabbing Lance’s upper arms tightly, staring at his ocean eyes, “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t put your life at risk, My Prince. That’s… That is all I’m asking,” he breathed out softly, eyes watery, “please…”.

Lance was shaken by the sudden burst of emotion that his advisor was showing, so uncharacteristically agitated and teary, and he stood still as a rock. Soon, his struck expression melted into a soft gaze, the blue of his eyes soothing, freckled cheeks puffed in a smile, “You have my word, Lotor” he replied, freeing his arms and hugging the man before him, not tightly, but enough to reassure him that everything would be alright.

“I received the communication that you really accepted to meet the Altean brat, My Emperor”

“Maybe don’t call him like that, hm?”

“Apologies,” Haggar said, not really showing any sign of redemption, “you shall be ready were they to attack-”

“But they won’t,” Keith interrupted, eyes sharp, “they were the ones to suggest the end of the war, thus I doubt they will ambush us”

“Ambush?”.

He nodded, “The Prince agreed to meet at his Palace on Altea. It’s safer for us both, so I agreed”

“This is most unfortunate. I cannot allow you to go” the witch stated, gaze firm but always seemingly uninterested.

“I beg your pardon?”

“We are not ready to move an entire army to guard your travel, My Emperor-”

“I don’t need a whole army. Two soldiers will do, really”.

A pause, air thick.

“Very well,” the druid spoke, “you shall get ready, then. Allow me to personally choose your couriers, My Lord”

Keith nodded simply, and Haggar left.

He wasn’t stupid, he could see that witch wanted nothing more than to get rid of him, but he also had faith that the Altean leader would collaborate without further complications.

-

When Keith stepped down his ship- he opted for a modest-looking cruiser to avoid commotion- the overwhelming heat dizzied him slightly, making him stumble. Such high temperatures had never been witnessed on Daibazaal, not since he was born, at least, and the star burning bright in the sky was blinding for Galra’s sensible irises. A furry hand raised to cover his eyes as he stepped in, his two guards behind, and two Altean guards in front of him to lead the way.

Taking in his surroundings, Keith noticed how open the spaces were, seeming so defenseless: pillars separated one wide room from the other, yet everybody could transpass and walk around freely, guards scarce and only carrying a blaster that children on Daibazaal could own from a very young age.

Not a word was spoken until they reached the council room, Lance facing the other way as his hands were crossed behind his elegant back. The robe he had on was translucent, letting the tan skin into the open air, dimples of Venus delicately adorning his lower back turning around- why was Keith’s gaze so low, now? - facing the presents in the room.

He smiled brightly, waving a hand in the hand and gesturing for the guards to leave; Keith did the same. 

They stared fondly at each other, gathering in the appearance and stance of their opponent, if one would call them like that. The howl of the breeze flickered through the cream curtains, letting fresh oxygen in- it almost dizzied Keith, since Daibazaal’s atmosphere had a slightly different composition- and some pale sunlight.

Finally, the Altean Prince broke the silence, gesturing for Keith to have a seat on the padded chairs.

“My Name is Prince Lance of Altea, first of the alphas and Guardian of the Good. I am honored that you accepted the invitation, Emperor,” he said, bowing before taking a seat in front of the Galra, “apologies for the mishap that almost prevented us from meeting, it was not my intention to offend nor deny you this occasion”.

The Galra swallowed, overwhelmed by the formality of the situation, “I am Emperor Kogane, supreme alpha commander and Conqueror of the Cosmos,” Keith muttered, ashamed for the embarrassing and _deceitful_ title he carried; then, he raised a hand in midair, waving it, “no need to apologise, Your Highness. I understand, and I am honored to be welcomed on Altea after such a long time of strife” he muttered, blush unnoticed under the thick fur.

The silence after that was almost unnerving, and Keith swallowed loudly.

Why was it so hard to talk to this Prince? He’d done political meetings before, it was not the first time that he had to speak in front of a leader or anything. Yet, the ocean eyes that gazed toward his direction agitated him, heart palpitating and throbbing to an unknown rhythm.

“So, we shall begin discussing the basis of our agreement, shan’t we?” Lance prompted, moving his slim findex in the air as a floating tray approached: it carried a wonderfully sculpted glass jug, the water in it clear and frizzy, and two cups.

Lance picked those up and poured Keith a drink, elegantly holding one of his sleeves back. 

His expression was unreadable to Keith: he’d never witnessed someone being so calm and in harmony with his surroundings, so composed and well-behaved that, however, didn’t make him haughty-looking.

“Yes, indeed. I hereby apologise for what my br-” he cleared his throat, “for what Emperor Shirogane has done to your people, and I seek peace just like I believe you do”

“I’m glad to witness that we agree on this,” Lance smiled- making Keith’s heart jump unexpectedly- “the senseless war that’s been afflicting our people must come to an end. Since the very first day I got on the throne, I have been battling against the Galra regime for justice and rightfulness, and it’s high time we reach an agreement.” he stopped, raising his gaze to meet Keith’s before looking down at his hands, folded on the lap, again, “I humbly ask you to withdraw your army from the Marmora suburbs, and to free the slaves in your dungeons. The practices that you have brought on are… Cruel, and blood-curdling, to be honest.” Lance raised his eyes, “I fully understand the reasons behind why you started the program, though I am not, in any way, justifying your people’s doings. But now, since the war may come to an end, were you to agree, I ask you to stop” he spoke, breathing out after the speech.

If Keith had to be honest, he hadn’t heard much of what the man before him had said, but he had grasped the concept, at least. Those sinuous, soft-looking lips, shining tenderly as Lance’s tongue wetted them between one sentence and another, and that neck, so thin and elegant, morbidly sustaining the pointy chin… Keith hadn’t managed to get past those.

The Altean raised an eyebrow, blushing slightly because the Galra was indubitably staring at him.

Still, he thought, it must have been something that they did to intimidate the opponent.

_Probably._

“...So?”

“I, huh,” Keith stuttered, sipping the water, “I agree. Yet, I fear I cannot just end the war from one day to another. It would not be fair”

“And the reason behind this ‘unfairness’ would be..?”

“The Galra would not be pleased to witness that I’m withdrawing the army upon a simple request. I mean… Why do you not withdraw yours first?”.

Lance gasped, “My army is merely defensive, infiltrated in the suburbs and dungeons to monitor the situation. You should consider yourself lucky that I did not order them to break loose and free the Marmorites and the breeding victims!”

“Who gave you the permission to infiltrate my territory?”

“I don’t know, who gave _you_ the permission to enslave thousands?”.

Keith halted. He had a point, admittedly.

The Emperor sighed, “Look, your Highness-”

“Lance. Lance is fine.”

_Oh. Lance. It suits him._

“Alright. Look, Lance, I see your point, and I understand it. What my ancestors have done is… Despicable, if not worse. I am ashamed for what a bright population like the Galra have become… We used to be science and technology pioneers, yet we couldn’t find a decent solution to our underpopulation problem, despite the various options that we admittedly had. Emperor Shirogane has done terrible things, but...” he lowered his yellow eyes, eyebrows knitted softly, “I loved and respected him. He made me into the man I am today. Even if I have been on the throne for a very, very short time, compared to you, I want things to change. But that cannot happen in the blink of an eye, for the Galra do not trust me yet” he admitted, shakily.

The Altean exhaled softly, bringing a hand forward and placing it upon Keith’s; as he spoke, his voice warm and calm, he felt his own heart beat faster, “Emperor-”

“Keith. Call me Keith” the Galra smiled, baffled by the sudden contact but not withdrawing the hand. Their fingers brushed, tenderly, warmth coming from their vibrating tips. Keith’s tongue ran on his lips, though Lance didn’t seem to notice, too lost in the yellow depths.

“Keith,” he spoke after many long, intense instants, “I will do anything I can to make the end of the war happen as smoothly as possible. We can reach an agreement, and I am willing to fake a surrender if you promise in front of the Gods to end this.” he said, “I am sorry that your people don’t trust you. I see good in your soul, and the others should too. I… I trust you”.

_Oh?_

Lance cursed under his breath as Keith’s hand tightened in his as he trembled.

What was happening? None of them had ever held such a peaceful meeting with the opposite species. Mostly, none of them had ever felt like this before.

And then there was something in the air, unmistakably foreign in the room. Yet, it was somehow familiar to Lance, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint its origin.

The Prince’s head spun, pleasure overriding his whole being; he managed to keep it together, though.

He was a Prince.

He was _the_ Prince, for the Ancients’ sake!

Keith had stopped breathing too, apparently; when he made a barely audible gasping noise, he tore the outer out of his trance.

Lance gulped, cheeks and pointy ears rapidly taking a red tinge as his eyes melted in Keith’s penetrating gaze. He immediately retracted his hand, gasping, “I’m- I’m sorry, that was deeply inappropriate of me-”.

Keith blushed too, looking away, “It’s fine, really! In fact, that is a typical, huh, Galra salute-” he lied, scratching his head, “so..!”

  
“Oh, right, I knew that, of course! I appositely learnt that salute for your arrival,” Lance huffed, raising his index, “that is, _obviously_ , a sign of immense respect for the opponent”.

The two started, silently agreeing that what had just happened didn’t happen at all. Never.

Lance sipped more water, looking away, “So, huh, Keith, mind telling me more about yourself?” he muttered. 

Oh _quiznak_ , what was he doing?

"To better know who I am dealing with, that is!" he added, clutching his robe.

His whole body trembled in excitement, hormones flooding his veins and sending him into a high, skin itching. But why now? It wasn’t mating time, was it?

Damn it, how he hated his body sometimes...

“I- huh- I am the Emperor of Daibazaal, leader of the Galra and, huh,” Keith cut in and paused.

He had secrets that he couldn’t just spill like that. Yet, a voice in the back of his head told him that he could trust Lance, that he wouldn’t end up getting hurt, “that’s it, I guess”.

He didn’t risk it, anyway.

“Ah, interesting-” Lance commented, pretending to sip more water nervously- Keith snorted inside at the empty glass- “we should totally meet again- to discuss the plan, I mean, of course!”

“But- we could discuss it now, right?”.

The echoing footsteps interrupted the sentence, and Lance gasped, quickly getting up and adjusting his robe with shaky hands, “Ancients, look at the time!” Lance gasped, too loudly to sound normal, “you should totally get going, Emperor. Guards, escort our esteemed guest out!” he called, though the guards didn’t come. 

Keith was utterly confused, but didn’t have time to voice his concerns as an accented voice broke in.

“Apologies. My Prince,” Lotor spoke unenthusiastically, bowing in front of the two. He then eyed Keith, who remained shocked because of the person before him. He’d recognize that mauve, short fur anywhere.

“This is Lotor,” Lance explained, suddenly- too suddenly- calm “he is my most trusted advisor and second in command”

“He’s purple- I mean- I, huh, I did not expect someone of Galra heritage to be part of the royal court” Keith blurted out. The Altean and the half-breed stared silently, raising an eyebrow after looking at each other for an instant.

“No, wait, that came off wrong, I-” he groaned, “I believe the Altean atmosphere may be messing with my brain. I shall leave immediately!” he yelled, and the others still stared, “we will meet again, Prince Lance. Thank you for your time.” he hurried, and after another brief shared gaze, he left, the guards waiting just outside the room.

Lotor popped his lips, looking at Lance.

“What!? You heard him, it’s the atmosphere...” the man shrugged, playing innocent.

Lotor sighed, “Your Highness, what did you do to him, exactly?”

“Nothing!” the Prince screamed, defensively, though his red face said otherwise, “the man’s crazy, believe me- hey”.

The advisor picked up the glass that Keith had used previously, sniffing inside of it, “Mh, did you put anything in his water?”

“Lotor! How dare you? I’d never-”

“Relax, my Prince, I was merely joking with you,” he said, putting the contained down, “still, I am mostly glad. He seemed so fond of you, and very tranquil. Shall I announce the end of the war publicly?”

Lance groaned, slumping back in his chair, “Not yet. We have encountered some discrepancies that need to be taken care of, first… But we are close, luckily”

“I take that the speech I wrote was effective then?” Lotor questioned.

_Ah, quiznak…_

“You... You did use it, My Prince, didn’t you?”

“I… I may have sort of accidentally forgotten about it?”

“Lance!”

"Do not 'Lance' me, I know I messed up," the man muttered, covering his face, "I was so excited that the Galra leader didn't want to chop my head off for once, I totally forgot that I didn't have to fraternise with him-"

Lotor screeched, "You fraternised with the enemy!?"

"I- I didn't!" Lance groaned, burying his head further, "maybe I did. A little. Just to get him to trust me, okay? I didn't say anything weird. And don't call Kei- the Emperor 'the enemy', it will not get us anywhere"

"You, not saying anything 'weird'? That seems unlikely, to be honest" Lotor muttered.

"Altea hasn't executed anyone in centuries but believe me, I will have you killed if you keep treating me like an idiot" Lance gasped, half-heartedly trying to sound menacing.

"You… Kind of behave idiotically sometimes, My Prince"

"I do. I know that. I'm sorry, okay?" the Altean man admitted, raising from the seat as he massaged his temples, "we just need to convince the council to surrender. Then, the Galra will cease attacking and doing what they do. The Emperor swore it," he breathed out, "so, are you with me?"

"I…" the advisor paused, mouth agape, "no, I am not, I'm afraid. We cannot risk our lives only because the enemy-"

"Lotor!"

"Because the Galra, then, made a promise. I am sorry, but I will not partake in this foolish and naive attempt of yours" he spat, crossing his arms.

"Lotor, please-"

"I am your most trusted advisor, you said it a few dobohoes ago. So believe me, Your Highness, when I say that I am doing this for your own good. I will not help you this time. I can't".

Lance was about to talk back, when suddenly the words got lost on his tongue.

Was Lotor right?

Was he going too fast with this?

He couldn't trust his heart entirely, obviously, but this time… This time was different.

He had felt something deep breaking inside of him when Keith had spoken, so soft and vulnerable, and Lance was not going to ignore his plea.

Still, without the approval of the council, his hands were tied.

"Lance," Lotor spoke gently, his claws caressing the Prince's jaw as he stepped in front of him, "I trust your judgment, but this time you need to trust mine more. Please… You know I love you" he breathed out, warm air blowing on Lance's face.

The Prince diverted his gaze, eyes low, “I know...”.

He hated it. He hated being so easily manipulable, a toy in someone's hands. But Lotor… Maybe he was right. He probably was.

He was older, wiser, brighter than him. And Lance was just a Prince. An adult with a crown on his head, yet with no power to him. 

Lance shuddered, "Lotor, I’m sorry" he murmured.

"Don't be. I understand…" the halfbreed spoke, smirking as his sharp teeth nibbled his lip, "I will always be by your side, My Prince" he said and dove into Lance's neck, kissing it fondly, sucking the skin where he knew that any robe the prince owned could cover it.

"Thank you..." he mumbled, looking away as the advisor busied himself with licking Lance's soft skin, biting down occasionally without causing too much pain.

But ocean eyes stared elsewhere, gazing at the horizon outside the window, squinting to see Keith's cruiser leave Altea.

_Keith…_

That name, its sound so soft and warm, raced in his head furiously as Lotor's hand descended inside his robe, touching him with lusty moans.

Lance closed his eyes, smiling tenderly.

_Keith… We'll meet again._

-

"My Emperor," Haggar spoke with her voice crooked, stepping inside the hall where Keith stood alone, "I have received news that your encounter was a success".

He nodded, "It will take more time for us to win, but we will get the Alteans out of our territory. Leave now, witch, I need to think" he commanded, and Haggar was gone.

Keith let out a shaky breath.

He couldn't keep this up; he wasn't fearsome like his brother was, and he knew the druids' ability to read one's minds.

They would not dare to do it with an Emperor, but he was no leader of theirs.

They hated him.

It did not take much for it to be clear, the title 'Royal Brat' on everybody's tongue, spreading rapidly amongst the Generals.

He was going to be assassinated at some point, probably, maybe replaced by someone better.

But Lance… Lance trusted him. And Keith, on his part, trusted Lance.

_Deeply._

Gulping at the sudden presence between his thighs, Keith hurriedly made his way to the main room, locking the door behind him. 

_No, no no no. Too soon._

He shouldn’t- he couldn’t-

His hand inadvertently undid the zip on his pants, the other gripping at the couch on which he’d slumped on; trembling, Keith grabbed his erect member, shaking in shame and fear and anticipation, sliding the hand up and down at increasing speed.

_Fuck. What am I doing? Fuck._

A lewd moan got torn from his parted lips, head sent back with each stroke, chest seizing rapidly, and the free hand slammed onto his mouth, biting the soft part between the index and the thumb to silence himself.

Lance’s scent inebriated his memory, that slim hand on his, caressing his fur with the thumb, that stare, deep and bright, lips curvy and moisturized, teeth nibbling them seductively.

Maybe Keith was imagining that last part, he probably was, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t care because the thrill of the risk he’d taken by going on Altea while in heat, plus whatever Lance’s presence had caused in him sent the Galra Emperor on a high, omega scent asphyxiating as Keith took care of himself. 

When he came a few doboshes later, Keith let out a muffled cry, tears spilling from his flickering eyes. Huffing, he laid there, going flaccid; his mind raced, bringing him back to that single varga spent on Altea.

He was going to meet Lance again.

He _needed_ to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Lotor's plan? Is he merely toying with Lance or does he really care about the Prince? Will Keith and Lance's crush for each other blossom into something deeper? And will Keith be able to hide his omega nature long enough?  
> Find out soon!  
> -  
> come say hi on my tumblr @theforgottendaydreamer (how can I put the link? Help). I will answer questions about all of my fics, and if you have questions for my beta you can tell me and I'll ask him for you. Don't be shy!


	3. the only way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it didn't take ten days, more like thirteen... Sorry about that.  
> Please, enjoy!

The scent of juniberry incense filled the royal bedroom, its pungent aroma lingering in the atmosphere. The sun shone brightly into the room- the servants did not have time to close the curtains properly the night before, as Lotor had requested to be left alone with the Prince for the night.

Blue orbs blinked, sheepish gaze adjusting to the light as Lance propped himself up on his elbows, and the turquoise sheet fell down bare, freckled shoulders as he did so. He yawned, looking at the empty spot next to him, where Lotor had stayed for the night.

He sighed.

The Prince knew that, according to the codes, it wasn’t exactly proper for royalty to be so _intimate_ with someone of inferior rank, yet things had escalated so rapidly that he hadn’t even realized it at first.

A couple of phoebs ago, after many years of friendship, he and Lotor had rapidly grown much closer, and things got out of hand. It’s not like Lance didn’t like it, but he worried nonetheless. 

The events of the first night when he and Lotor had slept together rushed to his mind from the back of his head, events that he did not recall with pleasure, despite the fact that the advisor had always been kind to him.

_“L-Lotor! What are you-” Lance gasped as the half-breed’s tongue lustly slid across the tan neck, pinning the boy against the wall, “s-stop, Lotor, we can’t…”_

_“Lance,” his voice was warm, “we shall not waste this moment. You…” Lotor whispered into his pointy ear as the semi-transparent hairs on it stood up, and he massaged Lance’s white nape seductively, “you are amazing, and I want to be with you… Not only as your advisor, but as someone you can rely on for any issue. If you will take me, I will make sure to make the best out of this relationship. I love you, My Prince”._

_Lance blushed, taken aback by the sudden confession._

_“Lotor...”. His pants were too tight now, and Lotor’s knee brushed against the Prince’s crotch as he moaned and trembled._

_Surely enough, Lotor was an alpha at heart, though a beta in the body; it surprised Lance, but the thrill of excitement and the flow of hormones burning through his veins overtook him as he succumbed to Lotor’s lewd touch, wrapping his legs around the other as the advisor slid his erect and moist cock in him. Lance gasped and panted, eyelashes fluttering as he moaned._

And Lance had to admit… It was amazing. That’s why they kept doing it to this day.

Taken back to the present by the sound of kids laughing down in the garden, Lance sighed.

What would his people think if they found out?

Lance sighed again, finally getting up; the chilly air blistered his tan skin with tiny bumps, and he jogged to the annex bathroom to take a warm, relaxing bath. He was still a bit sore after the previous night, he admitted, but at least he had managed to relieve some stress, which was good given the situation he was in. Still, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that what he was doing was wrong.

Not only when it came to sleeping with Lotor, but also thinking about someone else while he did so.

The enemy, to be fair. His mind was fixed on his former opponent.

The Prince laid in the soapy water, sliding down until his mouth was under it; he blew some air bubbles as he thought.

Admittedly, he had never felt like this toward anyone, though he fancied Lotor, of course. But maybe he had rushed things with the advisor, and maybe he should avoid thinking about the enemy while his dick was stuck in someone else.

But he wasn’t really thinking about Keith, was he? Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

_Yeah, it has to be…_

Suddenly, Lance’s pointy ears caught the sound of someone approaching the room.

A faint knock on the bedroom’s door confirmed his theory,

 _“My Prince, may I come in?”_ a maid asked, polite and calm.

“Yes, of course,” he replied with a smile as the woman stepped in and made her way to the bathroom, “I’m sorry, I should’ve left the room a varga ago”

“Do not worry, Prince Lance, I understand that you must be exhausted after a meeting like yesterday’s!” the woman chirped, unfazed by Lance’s nudity as she collected clean towels from the nearby cabinet, “what would you like for breakfast?”.

Lance scratched his chin, “Uhm, would it be rude of me to ask for a slice of cake and a glass of juice?” he asked, sincerely hesitant, “I know it’s lunchtime, but I have somewhere to be and I only have a short time to get ready”.

The woman bowed slightly on her way out, “As you wish, My Prince. Shall I bring the food here?”

“It would be awesome if you could” he smiled, and the woman nodded after leaving.

A few doboshes later, Lance exited the water and quickly dried his body with the immaculate towel, letting the soft fabric absorb the tiny drops, ruffling his hair with another. He glanced in the mirror and smirked, “Lookin’ good there, bud”. Lance ran a hand across his wet and ruffled white hair.

He let his eyes slide across his whole reflected form, hands now fixed on the slim, bony hips.

Then, he made his way to the main room, and started to get dressed. To be fair, he had been offered many times to be dressed by someone of the staff, but Lance didn’t think that it was necessary.

Afterall, he was only the Prince, not the King.

He sighed as those words formulated in his head, but then a tired laugh escaped his moisturized lips; surely, he was the King of Altea, only-child of the late sovereigns.

But he couldn’t bring himself to use that title.

Not yet. The scar that his parents’ deaths left were still sore, throbbing as his soul squeezed at the memory of them. It had almost been a decade, he was aware of that, but Lance just couldn’t do it.

Maybe, once the war was over, he would think about it.

_Maybe._

“Here is your breakfast!” a voice announced behind his back, and Lance jumped, eyes wide.

“Oh, apologies! Did I startle you, Your Highness?” the same woman as before asked, a tray in her hands.

“No, no, sorry, it’s my fault!” Lance laughed, “I was lost in my thoughts, that’s all. Thank you for the food, Miss”. He took the tray from the woman’s hands, though she seemed hesitant, and placed it on the nearby wooden dresser, “I will leave the room soon, so that you can do what you need to. Sorry again for the delay, hope it’s not too much trouble for you now” he apologized, sincerely mortified.

“Not at all, My Prince! I shall simply postpone lunch-”

“Oh, don’t, please. I will not return before nighttime anyway,” Lance explained while chewing on the cake, “I’ll eat something along the way so you guys can eat at the usual time, alright?”.

The woman squeezed her hands timidly, “Are you sure, Prince Lance?”

He nodded, and so the woman left, after offering a polite bow.

Once Lance was alone, he locked the bedroom’s door, sighing in relief.

After putting a clean pair of underwear on, the Prince approached the dresser on which laid the tray. He grabbed the pommel of the third drawer and pulled it open, looking around to make sure that he was still the only one present. Rapidly, he let a hand slide inside of it; once it hit the back of the drawer, Lance delicately pulled the wooden board off, setting it on the floor next to him. Behind the actual drawer, in fact, he had crafted a second one.

He grabbed its content, revealing a torn robe, its dark grey cloth ripped on the hems. 

“Nice to see you again” he muttered as he put the old robe on, fastening the string of rope around his hips to secure it. Then, he fiddled in the drawer again, grunting as he struggled to pull out a pair of boots; he put them on, hitting the tip on the floor to make sure that they fit. To be fair, these boots were not of the exact size, but it was the best ones he could find at the street-market for a few gacs since, strangely enough, the council did not let Lance keep too much money.

Lance glanced at the clock on the wall, grinning.

_It’s time._

Opening the wardrobe, secured with a key, Lance grabbed two huge canvas bags, full and heavy, and he threw them on his shoulders; then, he pulled the hood on.

Lance unlocked the room’s door, certain that he still had a few doboshes before the cleaners would come, and made his way toward the open window; glancing down the balcony, and confirming his idea that the guards were not under it- he had learnt their shifts and paths by heart- he grabbed the rope that he kept hidden under one of the plants that he personally took care of; the Prince secured it, and rapidly started to make his way down. When his feet hit the ground, he knowingly undid the knot, and slid it under a bush before making his way toward the spacecraft port.

His ride for Daibazaal would leave in a few doboshes, and he was ready.

**\- At the same time, on Daibazaal -**

_Fuck, fuck. I’m fucked. I am so, so fucked!_

Keith paced up and down his room, hands folded behind his back, upon the lower part.

Shakingly, he halted in front of the mirror, taking in his appearance: he was slouching, shoulders uncharacteristically sagged. His knees trembled and the leg bones seemed to be made of jelly, so weak and unstable. Keith pressed his hands on the drawer below the mirror, claws scratching the metal; he took in a deep breath, yellow orbs shaking. He had been feeling extremely lightheaded in the past two quintants or so, but since he woke up almost four vargas ago, his head hadn’t stopped spinning for a tic, nausea lingering in his throat as he gulped.

He cursed.

“Why now!?” he questioned, growling, “just my luck, huh? Great”.

His body really seemed to be going against him at the most inappropriate times. Keith whimpered as his stomach gave a rough heave, and he crouched down, one hand on his stomach, the other still gripping the drawer.

Rationally, he knew that this agony was going to last for ten days- though it could be eight or twelve, it depended- but something was definitely wrong this time: he had never felt so drained, and most importantly he had never been so obviously and blatantly horny.

The stench was unmistakable, despite he’d tried to take several showers to get rid or, at least, to dull the smell, but it hadn’t worked well so far.

He mustered enough strength to get up again.

Fiddling with his corvine braid, Keith thought of the possibilities he had.

Worst case scenario, Haggar and the Druids would find the truth and either ban or kill him- maybe throw him in the dungeons to be breeding material- but, were he to somehow manage to hide his omega nature until his heat passed, he would have more time until the next cycle, and that meant more time to end the war, destroy the breeding program and get rid of the council, finding new members.

He sighed, defeated.

How was it that such his huge, majestic Palace, was the most dangerous place for its Emperor? Keith shook his head bitterly, the irony of the situation being deeply upsetting.

Still… There were many places out of the Court.

Guards could find him, but not if he managed to disguise himself as just another Galra. Afterall, he wasn’t that unique, didn’t have any distinctive trait that screamed ‘there he is, the Royal Brat!’, did he? Mauve fur, yellow eyes, black hair. Typical.

_But someone would notice my absence, right?_

Well, not really; as he thought of it, Haggar seemed to be rather distant after their argument concerning the meeting with the Alteans, and the Druids only acted upon her commands, so unless the Witch said anything, they would leave Keith alone.

How could he convince the spectral woman to do so too?

Keith groaned, flopping onto his back on the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes.

He could leave the Palace whenever he wanted, but he surely couldn’t disappear for more than a quintant, because Haggar would probably send patrols to find him and she would question him later. 

_I could seek asylum on Altea- no. No, what? No!_

He shot up, “What are you talking about?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, “sure, go on and knock on your former enemy’s door, what could possibly go wrong!? ‘Hi, it’s your nemesis, can I stay here until my heat passes?’. What the fuck are you thinking, Keith!”.

He ruffled his hair, grabbing it, “and everybody will find about me being an omega and not only that, but also that I have a weak spot for that idiot Prince!”. Keith paused as the words left his mouth, and he blushed, red hidden under the fur, “no, no, I don’t have a weak spot for him, what the fuck! It’s not that. It’s the hormones. I am calm,” he emphasised the last word, “calm and collected, that’s it. My biology does not define who I am, obviously! Lance’s stupid hormones messed with my brain, but that is it!” he growled, pointing at his reflection in the mirror.

Keith sighed, aware that complaining wouldn’t help; he was wasting precious time, cursing and complaining instead of acting.

He grabbed a book from the library, flicking through the pages absentmindedly. Maybe distracting himself would help, after all.

It was an ancient manual, thick and dusty, thousands of decaphoebs old yet the pages were still quite intact, only barely yellowed.

The reason why got immediately clarified, as it told the story of the Marmora people, that his ancestors had always ignored and despised; Keith’s curiosity spiked, and he looked for the index of the book. Maybe they could have helped with his issue.

Surely, it was an old manual and maybe things had changed, but it was worth the shot.

The Emperor rapidly brought his finger down the list of chapters, muttering out the words, “The first Marmorites… Myths of the origins… Beliefs and deities… Culinary culture… Family and traditions… Scientific knowledge- oh! There it is!” he exclaimed, immediately going to the signaled page.

Yellow orbs run through the paragraphs rapidly, claws gripping at the sides of the book in anticipation and nervousness. 

“Omegas!” he yelled, immediately slapping a hand on his mouth, as his eyes darted to the door. When he made sure that he hadn’t been heard, Keith returned his attention to the chapter.

The Marmora people had unguents and natural pills that were said to shorten the heat and reduce the symptoms, smell included: just what he needed.

Keith’s eyes fell on a section written with a significantly smaller font, the words smudged and blurred. 

“What do we have here..?” he smirked, and squinted to see better.

An instant later, he shut the book in horror, setting it aside.

_Could this be… My chance?_

Swallowing, Keith pried the book open again on the page that had made him react so drastically, and for a good reason. On it, there was the accurate- and rather gruesome- depiction of a delicate surgery that could have removed his uterus and ovaries.

Removed, and burnt to ashes, forgotten.

The thought made Keith’s already spinning head hurt further, and his world tipped; shutting his eyes close, he took a deep breath, and exhaled through his mouth, fangs trembling. 

If removing the organs was a real possibility, then it meant that these Marmorites could really change his life, making him into the man he was supposed to be as a Galra leader. Despite the fact that he had never told nor given away his omega nature, the young Emperor suspected that someone- the Witch, mostly- knew his dirty secret, meaning that with one step out of life, would mean the end of him.

Surely enough, he had never tried the natural remedies that the manual talked about, but Keith knew fairly well that they wouldn’t have solved his problem completely.

And getting rid of what had crippled him for his entire, miserable and sad life was what he wanted.

It was what he _needed._

He wouldn’t have it any other way, now that he knew there was a chance for him what the world had always wanted him to be: a real alpha, a worthy leader, not some pathetic omega with a pathetic baby-fever, _right?_

Still… The idea of getting knocked up itched in his brain: the thought of a warm, full belly, his future partner gently caressing the furry surface- _no!_

_What am I thinking? No. No baby. No nothing._

Sighing, Keith closed the book, heart aching.

-

Lance paced slowly in the Marmora slums, eyes darting around carefully. People laid onto the pavement, mostly beggars and elders, asking for a few gacs to buy food with. Lance, of course, helped as he could, tossing a few coins and offering a weak smile.

His boots splashed loudly on the muddy path, but he didn’t slow down; he was late already, and worrying about those cheap boots wasn’t his priority now.

Turning around the corner, hidden behind colorful tents and blankets hung on the rusty balcony rails, Lance lowered his hood, entering a modest house, its plaster ruined.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, removing his boots.

A tall, sturdy Marmorite man approached him: his clothes were creased and torn, feet bare and dirty with sand. The white hair was tied up in a manbun, and a braid passed in front of each ear.

“Prince Lance, we were afraid you wouldn’t come this time,” he smiled, “was the trip troublesome?”

“Not at all, Gyvluz, I just woke up late!” he confessed, “oh, here’s what I brought” he chirped out, sitting at the table at the centre of the bare room.

Opening the bag, he emptied it on the wooden surface.

“We’ve got dried meat, bread- a bit stale, but excellent with Yelmore milk- then, huh, some jars of goo, Tuuruk eggs, purifying tablets for the water, soap, disinfectant and gauzes, aaand-” he paused, fiddling in his pockets and extracting a thick bundle of paper money, sticking his tongue out in the process, “enough gacs to buy a dozen new bed. I finally got rid of a terrible portrait of my ancestors that terrified me as a kid… They buy everything at the port, I’m sure you know”.

“Prince Lance..!”

“I’m sorry it’s not much, I know… I’ve had some problems, with the end of the war and all...” he muttered, scratching his head.

The Marmorite, Gyvluz, waved his hands in front of him, “No, no, quite the contrary! Your gifts are blessings, My Prince” the man bowed, “we would not be here if not for you”.

Lance smiled, “I’m not doing much, really… So, how are the kids?”

“Most of them are healthy and happy! They really enjoy your gifts, and have improved enormously since last time”.

The Prince’s ocean eyes shone, “I’m happy to hear so, Gyvluz! Now, let’s bring these goods to them, alright?”

“Wait, My Prince,” the Marmorite urged, “today is not safe to wander around. There has been reports of multiple Galra patrols, and…” he hesitated.

“And?”

“There have been rumors that someone amongst the high ranks is planning on… On getting rid of you, Prince Lance” he lilac-skin man blurted, eyes low.

Silence followed, not a breath escaping neither of the men’s lips.

Tan fists tightened at Lance’s sides as he too lowered his eyes, his smile fading.

After all he had done… After almost reaching an agreement with the Galra Emperor, they were still quivering in excitement to see him fall.

Lance sighed, eyes up again, “It’s just rumors, though, right? It happens often, so do not fret, my friend”

“But-”

“Please,” and his eyes were really the ones of someone desperately pleading, “let me do this! I am useless to this cause until the Galra Emperor agrees to end the war, if he does that. Until then, I can only provide comfort to the oppressed, so let me do it. I… I don’t care who is plotting what, I just want to help” he took Gyvluz hand in his, “please...”.

The Marmorite didn’t speak, and limited himself to nod, so Lance gathered what he had brought and left, heading to the place where he knew that the most vulnerable stayed, hidden from patrols, safe yet constantly scared.

-

“Alright, that should be it...” Keith muttered, zipping the bag shut.

He was ready to leave, off to discover if those books were right, if the Marmorites really had a cure for him.

The young Emperor planned on staying away for two days at most: if it was true that those people were able to remove his uterus and ovaries, he was still going to return to his palace to recover. Staying in enemy territory long while also being so vulnerable and sick wasn’t ideal, and since Keith was not naive as the council thought, he knew better.

He threw on the most worn clothes he could find, that would be a pair of black, loose pants, and a slightly yellowed shirt. After that, the Galra threw an old cape on, black as well, and exited the palace. 

Throwing the bag onto the back of his hover-car, he quickly left, hopefully unnoticed.

Keith took the long road, avoiding to pass in the middle of the main streets but rather going through the outskirts, where the population and the guards were scarce and uninterested.

The Marmorite slum wasn’t too far, but when a sudden wave of nausea washed over him, Keith was forced to stop; he bolted out of the seat, tumbling down and scrambling on his feet quickly, to reach the nearest bush and promptly empty his stomach in it.

“Fuck…”.

A low groan escaped his lips, but he forced himself upright again, wobbling toward the vehicle to mount on it again; this was going to be a long, painful journey.

Riding cleared his mind, but upset his intestines further; Keith’s forehead was blistered in sweaty perls, running down his face fur and pooling in his nape- covered by the hood.

When the disguised Emperor finally managed to park, far from the place he was headed to, his head was spinning incredibly.

But Keith couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to.

He needed to be cured, he needed to be healed and fixed if he wanted to be a respected leader to his people, even if he wasn’t exactly loved.

Still, that was his only way of becoming maybe a little more appreciated and respected, to then abolish the breeding program and freeing the Marmorites from the oppression life they were forced to live.

He could see the slums from where he was, the sandy dune making his muzzle itch.

So, Keith started walking, slowly, praying to pass unnoticed and to be finally helped; he doubted that the Marmorites would have recognized him, as he had rarely appeared publicly, so he had that on his side.

Reaching the slum took a toll on his already strained body: every muscle ached terribly, sending spikes of pain as he wobbled on his bent and heavy legs. His shirt was completely drenched in sweat, and that almost made him laugh because at least now he looked even less of a royal than before. The only issue with sweat was that that liquid carried his omega scent, intensifying it, but the Marmorites who walked by didn’t really seem to care.

Keith had never been there, so he let his eyes wonder warily, always keeping an eye out for Galra patrols.

People laid in the mud, beggars and mangled creatures who asked for a gac or two, and the short, wrecked shacks’s walls were smeared in what Keith really hoped wasn’t blood- it was, though. The smell of rotten flesh and stagnant water made him gag, hard, but he shoved a hand on his mouth, pressing down to mute the whimpers.

Was this how these poor Marmorites lived? Was this what Shiro had reduced them to?

Keith shivered.

Back to his task, Keith kept walking with his yellow eyes low, glued to his dirty boots to avoid being recognized.

He was seriously starting to rethink all of this, but if there was one right thing that his brother had taught him, was that an Emperor never quits. 

_Maybe it’s not a good thing, thinking about the situation…_

He shrugged.

Either way, he was going to do this, there was no turning back at this point.

When Keith reached a small shack after a few doboshes, panting, he delicately shoved the flimsy curtain out of the way, stepping in.

“Hello?” he muttered shyly, “I’m- I’m looking for the healers...”.

The main room was bare, but it seemed clean at least; an old Marmorite woman stepped in the room from another door, and he jumped a bit, startled.

She was tiny, bent forward as a stick that tried to stay straight in the wind, and her fur was evidently old, shor and spent.

The robe she was wearing, however, was neat, emerald green cloth making her yellow eyes pop, “Hello, my child. What may I help you with?” she spoke in a coreaked and gentle voice, approaching him.

“I-I’ve heard that some healers are able to perform surgeries to remove the uterus,” he explained, keeping his head and forehead hidden, the shadow covering his eyes as well, “I’m willing to pay anything, but… But I need to get my uterus out” he mumbled, a hand hovering near his own stomach.

The woman’s gaze softened, “My child, what you seek is not to be found here,” she spoke calmly as he widened his eyes, “that is a forbidden practice that we haven’t pursued in decaphoebs… I myself am the oldest here, and I have never seen it done… I’m sorry, young one”.

Keith’s world crumbled.

“N-no, wait, there has to be something that can be done! Th-there has to be” and was he crying now? He didn’t care anymore, “I will pay you as much as you want, just please-”.

The woman’s hand on his cheek startled him, “I cannot do anything about your omega nature, my child… I’m sorry. There are medicines that I can give you, but your heat will always come, and you will always be who you are”.

She didn’t mean it as a final sentence, but to Keith, panic rising and churning his guts alongside the heat itself, it seemed like it.

Without sparing another word, he spun around and left, hurrying down the not too crowded street.

_What am I going to do, what am I going to do!?_

Rounding the next corner, someone sent him stumbling back on his butt and he winced.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” the figure asked, crouching in front of him.

Despite not raising his teary gaze, Keith realized that he had heard that sweet, melodious voice before...

The man before offered a hand, and as Keith raised his gaze, their mouths gaped.

“...You!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! These two conflicted souls will finally have the chance to talk freely, unheard by unwanted guests.  
> Will the Galra man spill his secret? And how will Lance, an alpha, react to that?  
> Find out soon-ish!  
> Special thanks to my lovely beta for always putting up with me, he's so precious and kind, I can't even-


	4. the talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, it took me two weeks and it's the shortest chapter so far, but finally Keith and Lance get to talk privately

Keith slowly raised his eyes to meet ocean ones, tight in joy that quickly turned into concern. Because Lance recognized that strong scent, but it just didn’t add up at all. Still, he shrugged at that, knowing that those streets were constantly populated by omega marmorites, a trail of scent following them close, air impregnated with it to an almost dizzying level for any alpha.

Lance decided to save the questions for later, anyway, aware of the threat that Keith’s presence represented, but also willing to help him out, were he to need someone to rely on for any reason- and from what Lance had gathered, the Galra weren’t exactly willing to help Keith. Extending one arm, the Altean waited for Keith to grab it to get up. 

He didn’t. Instead, he groaned, trying to stand on his own, failing; his whole body trembled visibly, and Keith squinted his aching eyes, trying to block out the dizzying light and steady himself. Keith had gotten lightheaded quickly, too quickly for his liking, and he knew fairly well that it was going to get worse eventually, considering his current state.

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked with a raised eyebrow, crouching in front of him when Keith all but collapsed again on his back, panting heavily.

“I could ask you the same question...” he breathed out, shakily. Lance took in the Emperor’s form: everything about it screamed utter agony. The usually bright yellow eyes seemed spent, squinting as if they couldn’t focus otherwise; he was shivering, indubitably, but Lance knew that Galra were used to much lower temperatures, so it made no sense unless Keith was-

“Are you sick?”

A dry, sardonic chuckle, “You could say so…”.

 _Oh Ancients,_ now that Lance was paying more attention, he couldn’t miss the pain in Keith’s croaky voice. _Poor guy_ , he thought, _he must be really hurting..!_

“Alright, uhm… We should get somewhere safer, then” he said, turning around, “I mean, if you’re sick, staying out in the sun on a dusty road won’t help, right?” he offered a shy smile.

Keith nodded, so Lance turned around, pacing toward his safe-house. However, when he didn’t feel the other following him, he glanced back: the Galra man was writhing in pain as he kneeled on the pavement, a furry arm wrapped around his middle.

Lance gasped and jogged back, “Hey, need a hand?” he murmured, placing a warm hand on Keith’s curved shoulder. 

_Yep, he’s definitely shaking._

“I- I jus’ need a dobosh...”

“Can you walk?” Lance asked, looking behind his back to make sure that nobody was seeing them, “come on, you can lean on me if you need to. I know where we can go for now, so that you can rest all the doboshes you need” the Altean Prince whispered, trying to forcefully get Keith to stand. For a Galra, he wasn’t that tall- it was the first thing that Lance had noticed back when they met for the first time- and luckily he didn’t weigh that much either. The tanner grunted as he made Keith lean on him, a limp arm around his shoulder.

The Galra moaned, low and pained, “Hurts...” he growled, upset.

“What hurts?”

Silence followed, and Lance raised an eyebrow but kept going.

The two slowly, _very slowly_ made their way to where Lance wanted to go, the Galra Emperor leaning further and further into him as he moaned something unintelligible- not that Lance really was in his right mind to decipher it. Keith’s breath was hitched and laboured, and the Prince felt like his former enemy was a bit too warm for his liking. Still, he didn’t know much about that species’ anatomy, so he let it slide for the moment. Unsaid questions died on Lance’s tongue, because he didn’t want to bother the other when he was obviously not in an optimal condition to reply. 

_“There have been rumors that someone amongst the high ranks is planning on… On getting rid of you, Prince Lance”_

Lance exhaled, eyeing the Galra slumped against him, head hung low as he put one foot in front of the other as if it were his first time doing so.

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived into a small, dark alley: Lance made his way toward a door, lowering his and Keith’s head when going through it- despite being very tall,the Marmorites always insisted on small doors, for some reason. 

The inside of the main- and only- room was pitch black, the only source of light being the Altean marks under the Prince’s eyes. He sighed after closing the door behind his back, carefully checking that they hadn’t been followed. Keith seemed unresponsive, or too out of it to cooperate, so Lance gently placed him onto the mattress in the corner of that room, placed directly on the dusty floor. His shivering had worsened, too. The Prince bit his lip in concern.

Lance reached the other side of the room, no bigger than sixteen feet squared, and crouched down to lit some juniberry scented candles. Glancing behind his back, he saw Keith stir and moan as he curled up in a ball, trembling like a leaf in the storm and clutching at his middle, whimpering. Lance didn’t like that. The other thing that he didn’t like was that the omega scent had impregnated his old clothes so much that now, next to the scented candles, he could still smell it. He wasn’t bothered by the omega scent itself, of course, but having a foreign smell on him was almost unnerving in those circumstances.

Hesitantly, Lance approached Keith again, keeping a distance for safe measure as Gyvluz’s words echoed in his mind.

Truthfully, something about this whole situation wasn’t right. 

_Far from it._

“Hey huh, are you alright?” Lance asked, fiddling with his hands nervously, “you look pretty rough, if I may”.

The Galra shook his head weakly, eyes squeezed shut. 

“S’ spinny” he mumbled, “d-don’t look at me…”.

Lance scratched the back of his head, blushing slightly and scoffing, “Well, it’s too late for that, sir...”. He’d brought him all the way from the streets to the safe-house, afterall.

Just then, Keith uncurled, still shivering, and slowly raised his head. When his languid gaze met Lance’s, time froze.

The Altean’s head spun as Keith gave off a strong spurt of hormones- was that even a thing, Lance wondered- that made him stagger and lean against the wall. It was probably an involuntary thing, or maybe Lance had just imagined it, but the sweet juniberry smell aroma couldn’t hide Keith’s scent, it was basically impossible at this point. So it hadn’t been the scent in the streets, then. It hadn’t been _that_ to impregnate his clothes.

_So it’s true, then._

Lance stared into nothingness now since Keith had lowered his gaze again, whimpering in utter fear, and the Altean’s hand rapidly descended toward his own pants- feeling too tight and wet- as a hand hovered over his hidden crotch, trembling in anticipation and excitement because there was a needy omega right in front of him. 

He wanted him. He _needed_ it.

A sickening smirk was painted across his face for an instant.

Lance could take him there, fair and square, _right?_

The Prince didn’t even realise that he was now crouched next to Keith, as his tan hand almost touched down on his face; his eyes shone in lust and desire, sparkling as Keith moaned more- pained or aroused, Lance was too out of it to discern the two. The wet tongue slid across his lips; his skin itched in agony and need.

Then, Keith made eye-contact once again, and Lance snapped back into reality. Those yellow eyes were pleading for pity and understandment, looking for support and support only; a tear was shed, lost in the fur on Keith’s cheek as he hiccupped, so silently that Lance wouldn’t have heard it if their faces hadn’t been only two inches apart.

Both’s breaths were ragged and gasping, hot air coming from the other’s mouth and tickling their noses, inebriated by the scent. Keith sat up and scooted slightly forward to the point where his muzzle and Lance’s upturned nose were brushing. 

He was scared, but his body was moving on its own, and he didn’t put up much of a fight due to his condition.

“Pl-please...” he begged with a whisper, that single word making the Prince’s head spin, pants uncomfortably skin-tight against his rock-hard erection. Keith needed him to do this, yes, but Lance couldn’t bring himself to even touch him.

_‘Please’ what? Please, don’t touch me? Please, take me?_

The Prince swallowed loudly, suddenly more self-aware. Because, what was he doing? Was he really going to take advantage of that poor man?

_No._

He was a prince, he couldn’t do these things.

He didn’t want to.

Sighing, Lance pulled back, and he eased Keith onto the mattress again, a soft yet firm hand guiding him down. Looking at the man in front of him, his heart sank.

The pain… The suffering that he must have gone through due to his nature- Lance shook his head. He didn’t want to even imagine it.

Keith shifted, reaching to grab the Altean’s wrist, “L-Lance, please…”

“I- I can’t,” Lance breathed out, resting the hand that once was reaching for Keith on his own lap now, looking at it, “it’s not right with you like this. I can’t, forgive me”.

For a moment, Lance couldn’t read the Galra’s expression, but when the first teardrop fell down his mauve cheek, lips quivering and gasping imperceptibly, his jaw dropped. Because the man in front of him, the mighty Galra Emperor, “supreme alpha commander and Conqueror of the Cosmos”- though the first part was surely debatable- was crying. 

Keith was crying.

A tiny sob escaped his lips, shoulders and head bobbing up and down as he struggled to remain somewhat composed, to preserve his presence and status, to look strong. But the dam had broken, and it was far beyond repair at this point.

Keith raised his trembling hand to cover his eyes, to hide the shame, willing to disappear; a firm hand around his wrist, gentle yet strong, stopped him.

Yellow eyes shot up to meet lapis lazuli gems, compassionate like nothing Keith had ever seen, tiny freckles framing them perfectly to make Lance’s expression look even softer. 

“Are you alright?” Lance breathed out, offering a quick smile.

“I- n-no...I’m so sorry, I-”

“Do not apologise, please. I am not mad, I promise, just… Worried. Deeply worried, if I may” he confessed.

Keith shook his head insistently, eyes low again, “You shouldn’t have seen it- I- I’m sorry, I n-need to go-”

“Keith.” - and the latter’s heart skipped multiple beats at that commanding yet understanding voice- “you are in no condition to leave, and I do not wish for you to do so. You should stay here and recover… And, maybe, talk, if you would..?” he said, as if to ask permission. 

He didn’t mean to be intrusive, but it was clear that Keith needed a _friend_ now, and Lance would be exactly that, without blinking. He liked helping people, and their race made no difference. He would help Galra, Marmorite, Altean, Olkari, Balmeran, and everyone else, because everybody deserved love in that cruel universe.

”The cat’s out of the bag now anyway...” Lance added.

Keith raised a confused eyebrow, “...What cat?”.

Silence.

“It’s a-” a shrug, “nevermind. What I meant was that you do not have to be scared anymore. Your secret is safe with me” the Altean smiled.

A shiver rocked Keith’s aching body, and he exhaled weekly. 

“I suppose that asking you not to reveal it would be futile, yeah?”

“I just told you that your secret is safe with me! Man, you Galra sure are stubborn” Lance blushed, clearing his throat, “anyway… Can I ask you, how? I mean- I don’t want to be rude nor intrusive and you are of course free to deny me an answer, but-”

“I never told anyone. I hid it. And it’s my first heat on the throne- I’ve been the Emperor for some phoebs, but it sort of skipped for some time. I was too stressed, I guess” Keith blurted out.

Lance nodded, “I understand.. It must have been hard for you, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, not your fault… It’s mine, if anything” he mumbled as a hand rubbed his aching lower abdomen.

“What? Why do you say that?”

“I… I should have never stayed at the Castle. Shiro, my brother- he- he wanted to keep me, and his parents agreed.. That’s why I’m the leader now”

“W-wait, Shiro? As in, Emperor Shirogane..?”

A shy nod, “He was my adoptive brother. He found me in the streets, took pity on me and eventually grew fond of me. That’s why he wanted me to rule after he...” a fine tremble wrecked through Keith’s bent form. Lance’s hand hovered on Keith’s shoulder but he eventually took it back.

“Adoptive… I should have known. Thankfully you’re not like him-- no offense!”

“None taken. He was indubitably a bad guy, now that I’m old enough to see what he’s done. And all these people are dying because of what he did… I- I feel guilty, I’m ashamed” Keith muttered, hiding his face.

“Keith. You have the power to change this, I know you can… What your ancestors did is not your fault-”

“It’s not that easy, Lance...”

“I know. Believe me, I know. You think that my people would like it if they knew that their Prince is secretly helping the leader of those who enslaved thousands? I mean, I don’t want to make things worse, I don’t… Certainly, my people don’t hate me, but- okay, no, I am definitely making things worse!”.

A tiny shrug, “You are right though… Your people like you, my people hate me immensely. There are more possibilities that they assassinate me before you-”.

Their eyes widened, and Keith raised his hands defensively, “I mean- I don’t want to kill you, they do!!”.

Silence followed, and Keith’s blood froze. However, after what seemed like a century later, Lance started to laugh loudly, a hand elegantly covering his mouth.

And it was the most soothing and amazing sound that Keith had ever heard in his whole life; it made his heart swell up, and he tried his very best not to spurt more hormones like he had done earlier, inadvertently. 

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Keith. I’ve been on the throne long enough to know how it is. And I’ve survived about five attempted murders, so it’s nothing new to me” he chuckled again, “you just surprised me by saying it so directly!”. He dried a tear, “as long as you’re not the one planning this murder, it’s fine by me”

“I’m not, I promise!!”

“I know, I know. Really, it’s okay”.

Keith raised his eyebrow, “Are you really not scared?”.

The Prince shook his head, eyes now low, “Of course I am, Keith. I don’t have any heir that could lead Altea if I died, and there are so many things I would like to do… But… We’re not allowed to accomplish what we wish to do, you know? That life is not for those leading the kind of life we have, anyway...”.

Keith exhaled, massaging his abdomen, Lance’s affirmation being a grim reminder of the emptiness inside of him. And of the pain, too.

“That’s ironic, huh? We’re the leaders and we’re not free to do anything”.

The Altean nodded, “Yeah, life is bitter sometimes. But we can change this. We really can”

“I don’t think-”

“Keith, I want to help you. I’m so tired of wars, so tired of seeing people suffering. And I don’t want to see you suffer either-” _what-!_

Keith didn’t reply, and Lance diverted his gaze. What had he just said? Now Keith was going to think that the Prince was just a creepy guy with a crown- he thought. 

_Oh God, I hope he can’t smell me now, I hope he can’t-_

“Thank you, Lance…” the Galra smiled, sincerely for the first time in a while. Lance focused on his soft lips and how he wanted to put his own on them, on his fangs and how he wanted those to sink in his tan skin. He blushed, violently, and his shaky hands flew up to hide it. Though, it was nearly useless, given that his scent was way too intense to hide right now. Not even the juniberry scented candles could work.

Keith didn’t say anything, anyway.

He actually appreciated the concern, and he felt loved for the first time ever. He blushed as he thought that, the word ‘love’ dizzying him, intoxicating his senses.

The Galra shivered. The adrenaline accumulated during their talk had started to dissipate, the realization that he was sick and hurting a grim reminder of that.

“Are you okay, Keith?” Lance asked, “are you cold? Or hot?”

“M’ fine, j-jus’ tired… C-can I lie down for a tic? I- I will leave soon...”. 

Lance shook his head, "Again, you can stay as long as you need to. Lie down, I’ll fetch a blanket“ he said, getting up from his crouching position and stretching, hands high in the air as he stood on tiptoe, eyes scrunched as he groaned. 

“Y-you don’t have to-”

“I know, but I _want_ to”.

Keith’s gaze fell on Lance’s elegant calves, now uncovered since the robe was a bit lifted: They were so elegant, slim and tan, and Keith almost went hard again; thankfully, Lance placed his heels back down, and the robe covered the legs. He groaned, quickly burying his face.

_I am so out of it right now, fuck..._

“I’ll also fetch a drink and some medicine, I should have something spare from what I brought to the Marmorites!” he chirped out, and headed for the opposite side of the room. There was a small cabinet, a dirty sink under it: it was dripping, the leaks viscous and brown, too thick to be water. Keith shifted, wincing loudly as the movement jostled his limbs too much, feeling heavy and numb.

“Wh-why do you have a ho-house here..?”

Lance didn’t turn his back and kept fiddling with the cabinet’s content, “I come here more often than you think, and sometimes I stay for three quintants in a row, so- ah! There it is. Painkiller, think it works?” he said, showing Keith a tiny container and shaking it, the pills inside rattling.

The light in the room was too dim, and Keith’s vision was way too blurred to make out the appearance of the container; he nodded anyway, offering a tired smirk.

“Thank y-you...”

“No problem, Keith” he said from his corner, now looking inside a wicker basket, “do you like Nunvil? Though maybe it’s not safe with the meds… Mh, then, maybe some Luwzyy? It’s very sweet and tasty, but I have to warn you, it makes you a bit loopy… Is that okay?”

“Sure, but, I d-don’t want you to go through all that trouble for me...”

“What trouble? Man, you are not used to kindness, huh?” Lance chuckled bitterly as he went back to the Garla man, offering him the meds and the pouch and gently easing the thick blanket on his trembling body. Instinctively, a tan had rose up to brush Keith’s thick dark hair away from his eyes, fingers gently tucking the bangs behind his big ear, and he smiled kindly.

When Keith met his gaze, yellow shallow and spent eyes meeting his ocean orbs, Lance was suddenly too self-aware, fully understanding that he was, in fact, caressing the man in front of him. He withheld the hand abruptly, eyes wide, 

“Sorry!! I- I don’t know what has gotten into me!! Ancients, I’m so mortified, I-”

“S’ fine,” Keith smiled back, chuckling, “I don’t mind...”. 

He downed the pill, immediately sending it down with a big gulp of that sweet beverage- _Luwzyy, was it?_ \- that Lance had offered him so kindly.

“Is it good?”

“Y-yeah, I’d never tried it before” Keith nodded, smiling at the Altean man.

A nod, “The med is going to kick in soon, same for the Luwzyy” Lance muttered, scratching his head, “is anybody waiting for you at home?”.

The Galra man huffed out a dry, bitter laugh, “Everyone would be happier if I disappeared, believe me...”

“Keith-”

“It’s fine, really. I’m not going to leave the throne to the first blood-thirsty bastard out there. I need to fix what my brother has done, that means abolishing the breeding program and freeing those poor people, and also granting protection to the Marmorites. I am so shocked to witness that they live like this because of what he has done...” he confessed, fists tight, “thankfully, those like you are trying to help. How long have you been doing this?”.

Lance scratched his chin, eyes pensive, “Since this whole thing started… I remember my first time,” he chuckled, “I was a child, really. I had no clue on what I had to do, or how to help. But after so many decaphoebs I finally got the hang of it! And, Keith… You are helping too”

He scoffed, “How?”

“Well, you are working to put an end to this. Unlike your predecessor, you are willing to collaborate and reach an agreement. You don’t really care about power, do you?”

“Honestly? I couldn't care any less. I am no conqueror, Lance, I’m just an orphan that a powerful family took pity on. I… My dream is to live normally, like a nobody, free and happy” he blushed.

Lance hummed.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling!” Keith quickly raised his hands midair. His eyes widened rapidly, only to be squeezed shut tightly as he hissed, grabbing his abdomen.

“Does it hurt that bad..? Is there anything else I can do for you, Keith?”.

And the omega’s heart fluttered. Lance _really_ cared for him, didn’t he? Or maybe…

_Maybe he took pity in me like Shiro did._

“D-don’t worry, it will pass” he shivered, eyes rimmed in red, “I’m- I’m fine”

“You are clearly not...”. Lance’s hands were steady on the Galra’s shoulders as he guided back down, making him lie onto the mattress, “Rest, I will make sure nobody disturbs you. Okay?”.

The Emperor curled up in a ball, “Th-thank you, Lance” he breathed out, bringing the blanket above his head, “m’ sorry I’m a mess...”

“None of that, now. I’m happy that you trust me enough to do this, and I want you to know that I trust you too. Rest up, now. I’ll be here when you wake” he whispered, repressing the urge to cradle Keith’s hair gently and lay down next to him, “we will triumph”

“Peace will come, eventually,” Keith pondered.

A nod, “Yes, it will. And I’m willing to pay any price for that to happen” Lance smiled.

That was the last, reassuring, heartwarming thing that the omega man heard before falling into a deep slumber, happy for the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, their relationship escalated quickly huh? ;)  
> Surely, somebody will notice their absence... Find out soon!  
> (again, thanks to my lovely beta for always bearing with me!)  
> 


	5. the suspicion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta and I are sorry it took us this long!!  
> -  
> Please, enjoy

Keith woke up feeling better but still miserable. The first moments, he did not remember much about how he’d fallen asleep in the first place. He pried his eyes open, sitting up and yawning loudly.

“Hey, goodmorning” a voice called from a few steps away- it was Lance’s. It took an instant to the Galra man to register where he was, the events of the previous day rushing back to him.

“Wait, ‘morning’?” he croaked out, scratching his head.

A nod, “You slept for a whole quintant, Keith. Are you doing better?”

“I… Yeah, I’m okay. I… I don’t know how to thank you”

“You could try my breakfast… And well, you may think it’s not a punishment, but only because you never tasted the food I make!” Lance joked, and Keith’s heart fluttered.

“Are you sure I can eat your food? I feel like I’m too much trouble-”

“You’re not, we’ve been over this! Now,” he muttered, approaching with a tray, “eat up, you need to keep your strength up”. He flashed a big, warm and sincere smile.

Keith trembled, hiding his eyes under the black bangs on his forehead.

“Hey, are you really okay?” the Altean asked, eyeing him in concern as he chewed on a slice of bread.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry. I’m overwhelmed by your hospitality, that’s all. It’s… Not a common thing, on Daibazaal” he explained. Why was he opening up like that to Lance? He probably didn’t even care,  _ right? _

A pensive hum, “I understand. Well, just so you know, hospitality is very important for Alteans and as their leader, I surely can’t slack” he murmured, “so, are you up to eating anything? I was kidding earlier, you don’t necessarily have to-”

“I’d love to try your food, Lance”.

They stared at each other for a long, interminable instant.

Two gazes, so different in colors and accents, melted and got lost in each other, golden pools meeting crystal clear oceans. For a moment, they felt connected in a way that had never occurred to any of them. They didn’t know what it was, but they didn’t care.

Savoring the moment, they simply looked at each other, a soft grin on their quivering lips.

Somehow, their warm mouths met. For a tic, fleeting yet dense, but it was enough.

“I’m… I’m sorry...” Lance breathed out, and Keith simply shook his head, an intense blush hidden under his fur, while the Altean’s was largely visible as his cheeks reddened and his marks glowed brightly.

“I… I should go” the omega whispered.

Neither of them could stay, impregnated with each other’s strong, unmistakable scent. This was wrong, it was not the right moment to do this, it was not the right way. 

Unsaid promises lingering in the air and soon, they were both on their ways.

-

The Altean Prince snuck back into his room nimbly, careful not to leave any trace behind. He’d left secretly many times now, he knew how secrecy worked. And he also knew that Altea had eyes everywhere. One would think that being the leader meant freedom to wander around undisturbed, but that was far from the truth. 

Altea was always vigilant in its apparent perfection, and Lance knew that.

Once he was on his balcony, he made sure that his room was empty and removed the dirty boots and his stained and dusty robe, shaking the dust off before quickly tucking it back inside the hidden drawer.

Lance was exhausted, having stayed awake the whole night after an intense day of voluntary work in the Marmora slums. Rubbing a shaky hand across his face, he opted for a bathroom.

The water that slowly filled the bathtub was boiling, just like Lance liked it, and he poured Juniberry scented bath salt in, copiously. He deserved it, afterall.

He got out of the clothes he had left on, and gently dived into the wide tub, letting his head sink under immediately. Ocean orbs pried open, under the surface. Lance had always enjoyed watching how the little air bubbles he blew from his nose would rise and burst, silent and forgotten.

When he was a kid, his mother would always insist on giving him the baths, letting the royal nanny leave and get some free time. The Queen of Altea cherished her child, and since she could rarely spend time with him, she always savoured that ritual they shared.

And Lance loved it.

He could remember her delicate hands as she cradled his hair, letting the soap rub against his scalp, massaging the roots. Lance would giggle and lean further into the touch, and she would smile at him.

One thing that saddened Lance was that he could not remember his mother’s voice. Nor his father’s, for the matter.

It had been too long, and those precious memories had faded rapidly, leaving him with soundless scraps of the past, blurry and remotely vague in some particular cases. But Lance remembered his mother’s gentle scent.

_ Juniberry’s. _

Lance smiled, aware of the slight burn in his lungs. But he didn’t resurface yet, and let his eyes slide closed.

The water engulfed him in a warm bubble, his body having no secrets, no hidden spots that it didn’t wash. It made him feel lighter, at peace.

Which was rare.

They’d always taken him for the carefree type, his mask of grins and jokes fooling those who knew him and that loved him exactly because of that attitude of his. And Lance, he was fine with it.

It was what his people wanted. It was what his people needed.

And he had never let the mask slide, never.

Except, maybe, in one case. A slow hand rose to his chest, the pressure in it overwhelming.

_ Keith… _

He’d let his guard down with Keith. Something inside of him had told him that he could trust that man, that he would be understood and accepted. And… It had been truthful, luckily. 

The pressure increased, a hand shooting up to his lips as he gently brushed against them, the motion slow because of the water.

Keith. None other than the Galra Emperor Keith. He had shown him that even his enemy was vulnerable, and that he wasn’t his enemy, now that he thought of it. They could be friends. They could be-

Lance gasped, and broke the water’s surface, panting and sputtering.

He’d stayed down there for a bit too long for his lungs to handle, and his body now protested and ached as he coughed and groaned. He let his body flop back, water splashing onto the tiled floor. This time, he let his head float as he still gasped for oxygen.

What was he doing? Catching feelings for someone like Keith?

_ No way. I can’t..! _

He couldn’t.

But he wanted to-

Lance mentally slapped himself, and brought his hands up to bury his face in them. He groaned once again.

_ What am I even doing? I’m so stupid…  _ he thought to himself, sighing.

Keith probably didn’t even think about him that way. He was just horny and in heat, and Lance would have probably let a light pole fuck him if he had been in that state,  _ right _ ? 

Heat was a whole lot different from rut. Lance, and all alphas, were not that desperate when their body reached rut. Sure, they would get fidgety and snappy, always hard with no reason, ready to jump on anyone, but-

He sighed.

_ Yeah, rut and heat are the quiznakin’ same. Got it. _

Lance sat up, water reaching his middle. 

_ “My Prince, may I come in?”  _ Lotor’s voice echoed from the corridor.

He groaned, “Yes, of course”.

He really didn’t feel like meeting his advisor now, but he had no other choice. Lance didn’t want the half-breed to be there now, but he also needed to keep the appearances up.

“Lance,” Lotor spoke, “it is good to  _ finally  _ have you back”. The note of sarcasm in his voice didn’t escape Lance’s ears.

“I wasn’t even gone for a quintant, don’t be so dramatic...” the Prince replied, “what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could tell me where you went yesterday, My Prince”

“What, do I need to ask permission next time?”

“This is not what I meant. I am merely curious and concerned”

“I understand the curiosity, Lotor. And don’t worry, I was not in danger of any sort” he lied, “anything else?”

“You didn’t answer me, Your Highness”.

Lance scoffed at the firm tone, “Since when do Princes owe explanations to their subordinates?”.

The advisor sighed, patience running low even if he didn’t show it. He sat on the edge of the tub, looking directly into the Prince’s cerulean orbs, “Why are you acting so cold toward me, Lance?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, seeming unbothered despite the storm inside of him.

_ Shit. Did he see right through me? _

“You have been distant and far from affectionate in my regards, and I do not like that”

“I am sorry, Lotor. I’m…”  _ in love with someone else  _ “stressed, lately. There is a lot on my plate...”.

The half Garla, half Altean man shifted closer to Lance, a hand delicately curling the white locks as he stared at his Prince, “You do not have to lie to me”. Was it anger in Lotor’s voice?

“I’m not, Lotor… Can I finish washing in peace, now?” Lance replied, defensively. He picked up a sponge and rubbed it against his legs, hoping for Lotor to leave. Also, Lance was not lying. Not completely, anyway.

“Why are you dodging my question?”.

His grip on Lance’s hair tightened. Or, maybe it was just the Prince’s impression. It could be,  _ right? _

“I am not. I already answered to what you asked me, dear”.

_ Why am I calling him that? I’ve never even- _

“You are lying, Lance”.

_ Yup,  _ the grip on Lance’s hair was definitely tightening It hurt.

“Lotor, for the hundredth time, I am not lying to you. And let go of me, now”.

He didn’t.

“Hey-”

“I can smell this disgusting omega stench on you. It’s in your hair, your skin,” he shoved his face in Lance’s, “even near your mouth” he snarled, voice low but dense of anger.

Lance quivered, baffled, “You’re crazy, man”

“Swear that you did not do what I think you did. Swear it, Lance”

“You are really going nuts over this, and I do not appreciate this attitude toward your Prince”. He didn’t sound intimidating.

“Have you been meeting with that Galra brat?”.

_ Fucking shit… _

“What brat?”

“You know who, Lance! Don’t lie to me, you know I won’t tolerate that!” he snarled, a hand cupping Lance’s pointy chin tight, “I knew it. That pathetic excuse for an Emperor has been messing with your head, hasn’t he!?”

“Lotor, have some respect and decency!” he hissed, trying to pull away and failing, “Emperor Keith and I have met once. Here, at the Castle-”

“Then where the fuck where you!?”

“I was in the Marmora slums, alright? I help those people, I am a volunteer. I was there. On my own. Happy now!? Let go.” Lance’s eyes sparkled with flames as he managed to pry Lotor’s hand away from his face.

It didn’t last long as, an instant later, purple lips collided with tan ones in a messy, painful kiss, teeth clinging. Lance tried to pull away, frantic, but Lotor didn’t let him.

“Let my scent impregnate your skin,” the advisor begged, sounding less lucid but also less furious, “Lance, let me do it...”. He sucked his neck, fully intending to leave a mark with his pointy canines, like a fire-mark on a beast to warn the others of its owner. Because Lance was Lotor’s property.

He knew his secrets, he knew him like nobody else did. A tear rolled down the tan cheek, dripping into the salted water.

“L-Lotor…”.

Lance didn’t want him to. He didn’t like him, he never did. Their relationship was just a…

Stress-relief method, the Prince thought.

But Lotor, he sounded so thirsty now, so out of it, so inebriated. The alpha scent he emanated was probably stronger than what Lance had thought at first.   
He didn’t want Lotor to treat him like that, but Altea had eyes everywhere, and Lotor was its ears.

“We will win this war, My Prince” the advisor murmured in Lance’s pointy ear, tongue licking the lobe after he finished the first sentence, “the council has some great plans for those poor creatures. We can put them out of their misery, we can do what we must and spare them some long, long decaphoebs of agony… Both the Galra and the Marmorites will perish and we-” he sucked on Lance’s ear lewdly “we will triumph. You and I, Lance. Together”.

The Prince trembled, eyes wide, pupils pinpoint.

Lotor was crazy. He was being consumed by power and fame and… And it was Lance’s fault. He’d let him be his advisor, he’d let their relationship become more than what it was supposed to be. He’d never said no to that.

He had never said no to Lotor.

And now, the half breed was slowly falling out of control, plotting with the council that Lance was supposed to be the ruler of. But he was merely a pawn now. A little, insignificant pawn, no more than a faint signature, no more than an adult with a crown on his white head.

Lance, he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t change the council’s mind without having Lotor find out.

Once the advisor knew something, everybody did. And vice versa. 

Lance… He wanted to protect Keith. He wanted to protect him from his people and the Galra too, he wanted to shield him from indiscreet comments and accusations, he wanted to make him happy and free.

Lance felt the half breed’s hand on his crotch, still underwater, and moaned.

He would do this.

_ For Keith. _

-

Keith walked into his palace feeling better than he did the day before, but still miserable. His abdomen was sore and tender as he gently- but discreetly- massaged it. Furthermore, his head hurt immensely, spinning every now and then and almost sending him tumbling down in front of everyone. As he staggered in the main hallway, somewhat managing to keep a haughty attitude to fool his court, he was met by the only person that he would have rather not met.

“Haggar” he called, voice low and resounding, almost menacing but truthfully just a faint attempt to hide his pain.

The witch bowed her head in the slightest, “My Emperor. I am glad to have you back”

“I needed time to reflect on my own. This place is far too noisy for my likings” he commented to seem more detached and uninterested.

In reality, he had always hated the palace for the opposite reason. It was too dark, too quiet, too still.

“My apologies. Shall I introduce punishment for whomever dares to disturb you, My Lord?”

“I am surprised it took you this long to understand what needs to be done, Haggar” he scoffed annoyedly, admittedly good at playing the bad guy. He got used to that, after so many years spent in that dreadful place.

“Have someone bring me my meal and prepare a bath. Be sure to make it the way I like it” he said sternly, turning his back to leave.

“My Emperor, if I may-”

“What do you want?” he snarled, not facing her for fear that she could see his lips trembling in fear.

Had he been busted? Had someone seen him in the slums? Had someone seen him with Lance? What if-

“I wonder where you have been in the past quintant. It is not wise for you to wander without bodyguards, My Emperor” she said, not seeming as concerned as her empty words begged to differ.

“That is none of your business, witch”

“It is, My Lord. I am responsible for your wellbeing, as your brother commanded me to take care of you before he perished.” she narrowed her yellow, dead eyes, “why would someone of your rank go in the Marmora slums? Are you so eager to get killed?”.

Keith gasped, air knocked out of him.

“Did… Did you spy on me?” he inquired, hissing.

“I have my ways. And your stench, My Lord, is unmistakable. You and I both know what is going on”

“And what would that be?” Keith challenged.

The Witch merely smirked, before returning to her stern, unreadable expression, “A foreign scent like that will take more than a change of clothes to fade, My Emperor. Now… Who does the scent belong to?”. She wasn’t malicious in her question. But Keith knew she knew.

He could feel it.

“I do have a certain idea of whose smell this could be. And that leads to another question. What is another alpha smell doing on you?”

“This is my scent, and nobody else’s. Your nonsense is nauseating. If you have your ways-”  _ what the fuck am I even doing!  _ “-find out for yourself, Haggar. If you wish to believe something untrue, you are free to. Do not stand in my way, though, or you will get what you deserve”.

She raised a white eyebrow, unimpressed but interested.

“Do not make me regret keeping you, Haggar. Do not waste my brother’s efforts to put up with you...” he hissed, still turned around. His fists were tight, anger and betrayal washing over him, “Druids are not unique. I have an army of those, and you are merely a simple puppet in my hands. I will not tolerate your senseless babbling any longer. Do not forget that, Haggar”. 

He took a step forward, but the woman’s voice interrupted him again.

“Such harsh words coming from someone in your position,  _ Kogane _ ...”.

His fur stood on end, thoughts dizzying him. Nobody except for Shiro had ever called him like that. He exhaled shakily. Not even his adoptive parents had called him with his given name, who had always limited themselves to refer to Keith as  _ the foundling. _

“Why did you call me that? How… How dare you, Haggar!?” he breathed out. 

Shaken, confused, scared, angry.

“My question is, why have you never changed that name after becoming part of the royal family,  _ Kogane _ ?” she spoke calmly, almost lifelessly, but her words were like sharp knives, cutting through his skin and digging further and further, piercing his soul.

“Are you so devoted to your past life, spent in misery, that you are willing to refuse a new, superior name?” she asked.

“Do not question my choices, Witch. Those like you are easy to find, and even easier to dispose of,” he threatened.

That wasn’t even true, Keith thought, but it was too late. She could see right through him, it was useless to deny it now.

“Long ago, I was offered to change my name but I refused. Just like then, I refuse to do it now. The Shirogane dynasty is part of me, and changing my name would not make my sentiment more valid than it is at this moment. Do not speak my name without permission again, Witch. Leave now, before I decide to get rid of you for good” he growled.

“...Very well” the druid nodded, “the Imperial council has scheduled a war meeting this afternoon. Shall I reschedule?”

“No. I will be there” he replied, walking toward his room, “do not forget what I told you, and send what I asked for immediately” he concluded, and faded into the dark corridors.

When he reached his room, dismissing the guards in front of his door, Keith locked it behind him and flopped onto his bed.

Curling up, he noticed that he couldn’t stop shaking.

Haggar had absolutely terrified him, and she had certainly perceived that as well. She had him in her wrinkled fist, tight. Keith had told her that she was his puppet, but it was quite the contrary.

He had no control over anything.

Keith, he was just a doll for Haggar and the council to toy with, nothing more than that. He held the crown, and it was the only reason why he was still there. Out of respect toward Shiro, the others had treated him fairly decently so far. But it wouldn’t last, Keith knew it.

Shiro was gone. He had been gone for a while, and just like every Galra emperor that had ruled before him, he was going to be forgotten, lost in old tales that nobody wanted to listen to. That was any emperor’s fate. Shiro’s predecessors, Shiro’s and Keith’s as well.

It was their destiny to bear the burden of royalty and then crumple under its weight. Diplomacy did not exist on Daibazaal. Nothing fair existed there.

The Druid Order had overthrown the government centuries ago, and then eventually reached an agreement with the current dynasty of the time, becoming part of any major decision made by the Galra.

It had never changed, and now Keith was paying the price of that old fight.

He sighed, a hand caressing his lower abdomen absentmindedly. What was he going to do? That witch had found out his secret, and there was no way in the universe that he could stand a chance against her and the council. Technically, she had not accused him of being an omega  _ yet,  _ but she knew that he had met someone he was not supposed to. Being smart, she would have realized the truth soon. Too soon for him to do anything about it.

And Lance had been so kind to him, he needed to protect him from the Galra. That army was violent, brutal and ruthless. Thousands had been enslaved, tortured, raped on his brother’s command, and Haggar wanted him to be just as cruel. But he wasn’t like that, Keith wasn’t like Shiro. 

All the new Emperor wished for was peace and harmony, not power and control over the universe. He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.

A knock on his door startled him, but he relaxed when one of the servants brought a food cart laden with delicious food, he smiled at him, though the servant’s head was always low. He then made his way to Keith’s bathroom and started the water.

The Emperor started eating, devouring everything dashly. Heat made him feel like that, and food was the only thing able to fill the emptiness inside, his soul full for once. Of course, it was not the only thing that would satiate his hunger.

But he’d never been that lucky. Closing his eyes as he chewed, he exhaled.

_ Lance… _

He would have made a difference. Keith’s heart spasmed and clenched as he thought about the Altean prince. He could still picture his legs, and the glimpse of his lower back he had the privilege to see when they first met on Altea.

His scent, so strong and reassuring, overwhelming but not violent- just like Lance himself- still lingered in the Galra man’s nostrils and mind, making him feel in a dazed state, almost drugged. Keith could see that he was a very bright and gentle soul, but he had not ignored the glint of melancholy and sadness in those deep, ocean eyes of his. And all he wished for, now, was to fix that.

He wanted to see Lance smile and laugh genuinely, he wanted him to be happy. Maybe it was selfish of him, but Keith really needed to see Lance be free to feel relieved as well. And he wanted to be the reason behind Lance’s smile. 

“-mperor, your bath is ready” the servant announced, snapping Keith out of his daze. He simply nodded, and the servant left. Keith got up, and locked the door again, sighing loudly. 

_ What kind of mess did I get into..? _

He stripped down and grabbed one of Daibazaal’s succulent hohkux fruits before slowly diving into the warm tub. He toyed with the fruit in his hand, observing it gently, letting his claws sink in it as its juicy content dripped into the bath water.

Only royalty could afford that kind of luxurious food on Daibazaal. He’d never tried it before he was taken in by Shiro, certainly enough, and if it hadn’t been like that he would have never had the chance to do so. 

He bit into it, eyes closed as he savored the hohkux. Its pungent smell was the thing that Keith liked the most about that fruit, and its sour taste felt more familiar than what he was usually served by the court’s chefs. It reminded it of his home more than anything else.

Not many memories had managed to penetrate his brain at such a young age, only vaguely undistinguishable noises and colors, someone’s warm, furry hand on his- his mother’s?- as he was led away.

He didn’t have anything else, and once, he’d told Shiro about it, when he was still so naive to dare speaking to him as an equal.

_ “You have to create new memories, then. Create new memories, forget your pathetic past and move on _ ” he’d told him, flashing him a smile that- now that Keith thought of it- resembled more a disgusted grin than a genuinely sympathetic advice.

The word ‘pathetic’ in it was an additional clue, surely enough.

Shiro loved Keith in his own way. The older they got, the closer they seemed to be, and Shiro’s attitude toward the kid that he had decided to take him got better and better. Keith appreciated him for that, for treating him like a normal being during their adulthood. He’d let him assist to the council meetings, he’d let him come to the frontline and  _ watch.  _ He had also brought him to the dungeons once, not long before Shiro’s passing, and Keith had almost barfed at the sight.

The Emperor could still picture the bloodied omegas, being dragged around in chains, fucked by half-reluctant alphas who did not want to be there either. He remembered the smell of dirty sex, of blood and tears, of dust and humidity.

Shiro, he was proud of what he’d created.

Keith dropped the fruit on the floor, and sank into the lukewarm water, letting it engulf him. Down there, it was quiet, and warm. 

No purple lights, no screams, no nothing. Just him, the water, and his thoughts. 

Lance was going to save him, and he was going to save Keith. They could live together, they could-

_ No, I’m being ridiculous… _

Lance probably had better things to do and better suitors drooling at his feet, with that gorgeous body of his, that bright personality, that stunning palace… He had it all.

Keith was just a brat from the slums who casually became Emperor of a dying reign, he was a nobody compared to that deity. He didn’t have a chance.

So he closed his eyes under the water, and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO PROUD OF THIS ONE AHHHHH  
> Also I tried to draw [undercover Lance](https://theforgottendaydreamer.tumblr.com/post/615492978080972800/i-tried-im-not-an-artist-and-this-was-my-very)


	6. the confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we did it *slow-mo victory celebration*

After their first unofficial encounter- after that kiss- things had been weird between them. Not as weird as someone would expect, just the normal amount of weird- Lance liked to describe their situation like that.

The first time they’d met after that, Lance was beyond shocked when he spotted Keith standing close to a food stand in the streets, smiling brightly as he purchased two M’lahx cones, sweet delicacies that one could buy on Daibazaal for a few GACs. Lance still stood aside as he watched the Galra man crouch down and hand the cones to two little kids, no older than six or seven decaphoebs. They had a bright smile on their face, and Keith seemed- relaxed.

It made Lance’s heart beat faster.

“Pss, hey!” he called, trying to be as discreet as possible.

Keith turned around slightly, pupils widening, “L-Lance! Hey, what are you huh doing here..?”

“I literally come here every movement… What about you? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you. It’s just-”

“I want to help.” Keith interrupted, stepping closer to Lance, “look, I don’t want to stay back as my people die. I am the Emperor of Daibazaal and the Marmorites are part of it”. 

Lance’s white eyebrow rose slightly.

“...You don’t believe me, do you?” Keith asked, voice whispery and broken.

Did he do something wrong? Did he read the signals in the wrong way? Did Lance even want his help? Did he-

“I believe you, Keith. It’s just… So sudden, that’s all. But we’ll be happy to have you as a volunteer! Come with me, the others will be thrilled to meet you”. He took the Galra’s furry hands in his tan and warm ones, a big smile on his face.

“The- huh- others..?”

“Yeah, come with me!”.

They walked in silence as Lance was headed for the tiny safe house where the Rebellion base was- sort of, unofficially.

Lance stepped in first, signaling for Keith to wait outside and take his boots off- they might have been in the slums, but they weren’t animals.

Keith did as he was told, dutifully waiting outside. Anxiety churned his stomach when he realized that the people inside would have surely recognized him, but Lance wouldn’t have let do anything to him,  _ right? _

“-th, come in! There’s someone I’d like you to meet!” Lance’s voice chirped from the inside, and Keith followed. There, in the pokey and dimly lit room, he found three people besides Lance, all Marmora’s.

The tallest stepped forward, offering a hand, “Hey, I’m Gyvluz. Welcome to our base”. He was huge, his strong alpha smell almost-  _ almost-  _ more intense than Lance’s. Not that Keith could ever forget about it anyway.

“I’m Keith,” he spoke, voice low bright nonetheless, “it’s a pleasure to meet you”.

The man smiled, and extended one hand to introduce the others, “these are Xa’li and Zuhwa”.

Keith bowed his head slightly at the two women in front of him, and offered a smile.

Visibly vibrating in excitement, Lance rubbed his hands and grinned, “I’m so glad you guys finally met. Keith, these are the co-leaders of the Rebellion.”

“I take care of the humanitarian duties, harvesting and distributing food” the only man explained.

One of the other women moved her hands and fingers, signing something that Keith couldn't comprehend. 

The other Marmorite spoke for her, “Zuhwa has eyes all over the city and provides intel, and I take care of the medical team” she explained, watching as Zuhwa signed some more.

She looked… pissed.

“She says she’s seen you before. Are you from here?” Xa’li questioned, raising a white eyebrow over her pale yellow eyes.

Keith’s knees shook, and he shot a pleading look at Lance. But he seemed calm, and that was enough for him.

“Listen, I have something to tell you,” Lance explained, looking at Xa’li in particular, “Keith is- well- he is the Emperor” he blurted out without too many decisions, and ept talking even when the three Marmorites quickly reached for the hilt of their dagger.

“But he’s on our side. He’s not like the previous emperor, he’s-”

“My Prince, are you out of your mind!? This-” Gyvluz shook his head, blinking rapidly, “this is madness. He’s going to report to his druids and send us to the dungeons!”

“I wouldn’t!” “He wouldn’t!”

_ “How do you know?”  _ Zuhwa signed, a spitting look on her thin face as she glared intensely at the Altean,  _ “Lance, he is using you. He will betray you and we’ll all be screwed!” _

“No! It’s not like that-”

“She’s right!” Xa’li cut in, “and what the quiznak would the Emperor be doing in this forsaken place? Do you understand how stupid that sounds, Prince Lance!?”.

The latter’s expression hardened, and he physically stepped in front of Keith who stood a few steps behind, frozen in shock.

He wasn’t scared of these three, not at all. He would have taken them out in less than a dobosh if he wanted to. But what Keith was scared of was that Lance would have realized that they weren’t meant to be- and Keith dreaded that.

The smell of the alpha was permanently impregnating his nostrils and fur. He couldn’t live without it-

“He  _ is  _ trustworthy. I wouldn’t have brought Keith here if I wasn’t sure of his loyalty to the cause,” Lance explained, growling, “I am willing to do anything to help out the people in the dungeons and here in the slums, and Keith can pull way more strings than what I could in a billion doboshes. We are-” he turned around, ocean eyes piercing Keith’s, “we’re working on it. For now, I ask you to trust him, and me. I won’t fail you”.

“If I may,” Keith cleared his throat, “I get that you guys don’t trust me. But- I used to be an orphan and lived in similar circumstances. I’m no Emperor, I’m a normal citizen of Daibazaal forced to bear the weight of crimes that I haven’t committed…” he lowered his head, furry ears following as the tips went down, “I beg you to let me do this. I won’t disappoint you, I swear it on everything that’s sacred”.

The three looked at each other- though Keith didn’t see it- and slowly, hesitantly brought their hands down, away from the hilts. Tension lingered in the air as he played with his hands behind his back, hoping to whatever deity anyone believed in to just  _ make it work. _

_ For Lance. _

“Fine.” Xa’li muttered, “but make one step out line and I will blow your brains out. I’m not scared of your kind,  _ Keith _ ” she hissed.

The other two nodded in agreement, crossing their arms.

“That- won’t be necessary, but I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you for giving me a chance” Keith made the tiniest smile, which got incredibly brighter and flustered as Lance turned around and gave him a thumb up, a serene expression on his charamel face.

“I’m glad that this worked out well,” Gyvluz interrupted, “but we should all get back to work”.

Zuhwa nodded, _ “My reckon squad will be back soon. I have to meet them to gather the info. Stay safe, guys!”  _ she signed, Keith confusedly staring at her. The others understood and moved aside, letting her leave. Before she stepped out of the threshold, she turned to face Keith who stood anxiously at the side,  _ “I’m watching you, royal brat”. _

Gyvluz and Xa’li left soon as well, sparing Keith half-trusting looks and Lance some stares that were halfway between disappointment and fear.

Lance turned around, grabbing some back in the corner of the room, while Keith just… stood there.

What was he supposed to say? What did he have to do? He didn’t even know why Lance had brought him there-

“Keith, why the long face?” he asked, handing him a bag, “tired of work already?”.

A light chuckle escaped Keith’s lips, but his eyes were not smiling one bit.

“Seriously, what is it? Are you feeling okay?”

“They don’t like me.” Keith blurted out, arms crossed and gaze low, “I’m used to it, but it’s still- sad”.

Lance made his way toward him, hands nonchalantly resting on Keith’s, “Hey. They will change their mind, I promise. They’re not bad people, just… Scared. But as far as you’re with me, I’ll make sure that nobody even insults you behind your back. I promise”

“You… You don’t have to go through this much trouble for me-”

“Nonsense!” Lance chirped out, removing his hands, “it’s not trouble, quit it. And, now, we really need to go to work!”

“I, huh, still don’t understand what you do… Besides bringing goods” Keith confessed.

He didn’t like Lance’s sly grin as he made a sign to follow him quietly.

When they finally arrived where the Prince intended to go, not too far from the Rebellion base, Keith’s stomach sank.   
“Keith, welcome to my improv-daycare!” he smiled, a horde of kids loudly playing behind the fence.

If Galra could pale, Lance didn’t know, but he was sure that blood had drained from the Emperor’s face.

“What?”

“K-kids…” Keith pointed his trembling finger at the tiny marmorites, “I don’t do good with kids.”

“Why not?” Lance asked, not letting go.

Keith would have had to step on his corpse to avoid this.

“I- I’m scared to hurt them accidentally”.

Silence followed. Unsettling, long silence that Keith could only interpret as a sign of disappointment. Quiznak, he was the Emperor of one of the most powerful empires in the universe and-

Lance burst out laughing, a hand holding his middle as the other supported him, pushing on his knee as he bent forward and struggled to inhale.

“What!? It’s not- funny!”. Keith’s hair stood on edge, tail frizzy and straight as he tried his best to stay composed.

The other man didn’t let up.

“Lance!”

“Sorry, m’sorry,” he chuckled, drying tears. He took a deep breath in, ribs aching for the laughter. 

“Listen,” he started, “you’ll do fine. We just have to look at the kids of the people who are part of the teams led by Gyvluz, Xa'li and Zuhwa. Plus some other foundlings- you’ll do amazing!”. He grabbed Keith’s wrist and dragged him into the small park, where kids played with the little they had.

“Uh- Lance!!” a little girl screamed, and an instant later a swirl of babies of all age surrounded them, Lance bending down a bit to pat their heads and pinch their cheeks. Keith stood awkwardly, gingerly trying to avoid stepping on a kid’s little foot.

“Who’s this?” one asked, pointing a snot-covered finger at Keith.

Lance patted Keith’s back, flashing a friendly smile, “He’ll be helping me out. Babies, this is Keith. Keith, meet the babies!”.

_ Is he joking? I can’t- _

“Why is your fur so dark?”

“You smell weird!”

“Are you married?”

“Can you tie my boots?”

“Cal'oo pushed me!”

“I didn’t!”

"Kids, kids!” Lance called to the fifty-something children in front of them, “don’t overwhelm Keith, he’s still learning. Now, back to your books while I show Keith a couple of things!”

“Nooo, Lance!”

“I don’t want to study!”

“Can’t we play a bit more?”

“Pleeease!”.

Lance laughed, “come on, be nice now. Go, go!”. After a collective sigh of defeat, the eldest kids scrambled, sitting on the pale grass and dusty pavement to study.

“This is the best we can afford for now… Schools here aren’t a thing- not because the Marmorites aren’t usually cultivated, on the contrary! But because, well, schools are not safe now.” Lance explained, and picked up one of the youngest babies, no older than three decaphoebs, and cradled him gently in his arms.

And at the sight, Keith’s breath was cut short. He just loved a man good with kids-  _ Keith, for quiznak’s sake, behave! _

“So, you run this daycare thing by yourself?” he asked, looking around.

It wasn’t much of an ideal structure to study. It consisted of a park protected by a fence, and an old, tiny shack was at the centre of it. Not ideal, but admirable.

“Some parents help sometimes, but… Some don’t return from their missions” Lance cut short, eyes low.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Lance...”.

It was his fault, wasn’t it? The troops that Haggar made him send to keep the Marmorites quiet… It was his fault.

“It’s okay. We’re at war, it’s inevitable that some… Die in the process. That’s why we gotta end this war.” he whispered, brightening up immediately to conceal his worries, “Hey, you wanna hold him?” he asked, and before Keith could say  _ NO!,  _ Lance had safely and gingerly deposited the sleepy baby in the Galra’s buff arms. 

“Lance, Lance! No! What if I drop him?” Keith panicked, shaking.

“You won’t. Relax, man. Gee, you are bad at this for being an omega-” 

Keith hissed, tone threatening but also completely shocked, “Scream it from the rooftops, genius!”.

“Again,  _ relax _ . And I was just kidding...” Lance rolled his eyes, “besides, look at you! You haven’t dropped the baby yet. Success!”

“Are you  _ mocking  _ me?”

“I don’t know,  _ am I _ ?”.

Keith was the first to laugh, soon followed by Lance. They could make this work

-

It wasn’t rare for Lance to meet Keith in the slums anymore. It wasn’t rare and it was very appreciated, if Lance had to be honest.

He’d been doubtful at first- seeing the enemy doing something objectively good for the others was extremely unsettling and new to witness- but Lance had learnt to accept it.

Because Keith was a good guy. He kept his identity secret to those outside the leaders-circle, of course, but always showed up with gifts and food to offer to the Resistance, led by Lance.

Keith found it fascinating that someone who looked so posh was genuinely interested in helping.

And he could also see how the Altean Prince’s eyes would sparkle in utter joy whenever Keith was there- he pretended to ignore it, though.

Because Lance was ignoring Keith’s feelings toward him too, for everybody’s sake.

-

“I’m exhausted...” Keith sighed, straightening his back after the last parent picked up his kids from his and Lance’s daycare.

This ritual- as he called it- had been going on for three phoebs now, and Keith loved it. He’d learnt so much from Lance and from the kids as well, eyes full of wonder and love. 

He would go in the slums, meet with the others and then follow Lance to tend to the children. Lance… He was amazing with kids.

_ Amazing at everything he does… _

Keith’s heart leapt in his chest whenever Lance would crouch down next to a crying child, soothing their insecurities and fears, explaining everything in the most passionate yet easy way, never ignoring a call for help, never letting anyone down. And Keith, he admired him deeply.

“-th, Keith! Stop spacing out, man” Lance called in front of him chuckling lightly. His marks glowed shortly, but brightly nonetheless. The way he brought up his loosely curled fist to hide his laughter elegantly, eyes semi-closed as he stared at the spacy omega- it made Keith die inside a little every single time. There was something in the Altean man, something that the other couldn’t quite explain to himself rationally. It made him feel warm and safe, it helped him forget everything bad in life, he made Keith believe in love.

Keith loved him. Keith loved Lance.

Lance chuckled again, a hand delicately falling on Keith’s broad shoulder, “You seem very tired. Let’s get you to rest, huh?”.

He was so gentle and delicate…

“Thanks, Lance”.

-

“And then- this kid just comes and puts a flower behind my ear. And he dares to call it _ too pointy _ and  _ hideous _ ! You should’ve seen it!”

“You’ve been talking about this for  _ phoebs _ , I know!”.

The two men laughed, and Keith spoke first again, “You looked very cute with that flower on, honestly”

“I was allergic to it! My ear swelled up like a- like a pregnant Chu’lrox that hasn’t laid an egg in decaphoebs!” Lance bickered, hands grabbing the point of his own ear, “besides, my ears aren’t  _ that  _ pointy!”.

It had been just another typical day at the daycare, and the bond between Lance and Keith had never been stronger.

And… Complex.

The feelings they had for each other were unmistakably mutual; their scents began to smell alike as days went by, and they also started to meet more often than not, spending a whole quintant together every three. But unspoken words still lingered in the air, and the tension was intense.

Not only their love was forbidden- they knew it too well- but the war was still ongoing.

Haggar’s pressure on Keith was impending and heavy to stand, and Lotor seemed more and more off each time Lance came back from his “little trips”, as the advisor called them with a disgusted grin on his face.

So, Lance and Keith kept quiet, ignoring the truth.

They both loved their people too much to cause any major disarray that could potentially cost billions of lives.

“So,” Lance spoke again after a pause following their chuckling, “how are things on Daibazaal?”

“What do you mean?”

“You… You haven't told me anything about Haggar or the council in a whole phoeb, and it’s unusual”.

Keith raised a thick eyebrow, “You haven’t told me anything about Lotor or the council either, I thought it didn’t matter”

“Of course it matters, Keith. It’s just… Complicated, okay? And you’re dodging my question”

“What exactly do  _ you  _ want to know?”

“Why are you acting so defensive all of the sudden?” Lance questioned, “I’m just  _ asking- _ ”

“No, we are not planning an attack on Altea yet. Happy?” Keith snarled, looking away.

So Lance didn’t trust him yet? Maybe he would never do so. Maybe-

“You got me all wrong, you idiot!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. I was wondering if Haggar had tried to kill you yet, because I am scared for you. I... I was looking for a better way to talk about it without sounding so rude!” Lance bit back, “I know you’d tell me if your army was going to harm my people, I trust you”.

Silence fell in the tiny, humid room. 

_ You trust me..? _

“Of course I do!”- Keith didn’t realize he’d voiced his worries out loud- “why shouldn’t I? I… Ugh, nevermind.”.

Ocean eyes fell, fixed on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I… I didn’t mean it”. The words rolled off awkwardly on Keith’s tongue, not used to bickers that didn’t involve sheer violence. 

“It’s fine, sorry I snapped like this. It’s not appropriate for a Prince” Lance replied, shrugging.

Silence followed, once again.

How long could they go on like this, without being able to do what they wanted, barely keeping up the appearances in a disapproving and unforgiving world? They body itched, longing for even just a feathery touch, a soft kiss like the one they’d shared phoebs prior- unknowingly accepting their destiny, a cruel fate that forbid their love.

Because they loved each other, but they couldn’t admit it. Those warm gazes, those heartwarming smiles they exchanged- they didn’t lie. Words sometimes were the less efficient method to communicate this, and also the hardest to use. But as they said, the eyes were the mirror of the soul, and mirrors didn’t lie.

“Can I… Can I ask you something, Lance?”.

A tiny nod.

“Why do you call yourself a Prince? Your parents- they’re dead, right? So you’re the Emperor, aren’t you?” Keith asked, voice low and as non-prying as possible.

“Yeah, I suppose I am. I just… That title doesn’t feel right. I feel like an imposter, so I’d rather go by Prince” Lance replied, pinching the bridge of his cute upturned nose as painful words left his mouth, “I’m not some great leader like my parents were, I’m a kid. I’ve been on the throne for less than ten decaphoebs, I’m too naive and inexperienced to bear the name of Emperor”

“Well, I’ve been on the throne for less than two decaphoebs, so I understand what being inexperienced may feel like. And, Lance, you’re not. You- quiznak- you help more than anyone. I’ve never heard you complaining about being tired of work. You’re… You’re truly amazing!”.

Lance couldn't hide the red tinge on his cheeks, his marks of the chosen glowing brightly.

He cleared his throat, shakily, “Th-thanks, that’s very kind of you, Keith. And… Did you just curse in Altean?” he chuckled.

“I- I did not!”

“You totally did, I know a  _ quiznak  _ when I hear one” Lance elbowed him, laughing at Keith’s distraught expression.

The latter shook his head, turning away and pouting childishly, “Whatever”. He hid the smile.

_ He’s pretty cute… _

“What did you say? Lance?”

_ DAMN IT. _

“Nothing! Just- saying how stupid your Galra mullet looks. Seriously, why do people on Daibazaal have these weird haircuts? Braided mullets, half undercuts, weird- buns or whatever..!” Lance fumbled for words.

It was not what Keith had heard him say, but he played along. For everybody’s sake.

“It’s fancy, you’re just ignorant on this matter” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Nope, it’s not 'fancy' at all"

“But it is!”

“No-uh”

“Yes!”

“Nooo-!” Lance joked. 

Acting on instinct like the Galra cub he essentially was, Keith pushed Lance down by his shoulders and down on the floor of Lance’s small secret apartment, falling onto the Emperor. They stared, eyes wide in shock, disbelief, wonder and fear.

Lance’s eyes were so warm and deep, an ocean of thoughts and magic, sparkles of concealed strength spangled in a sky of brightness.

And Keith’s, they were not as shallow as they seemed. His eyes hid the power of a rebellious, passionate soul, only one step away from breaking the chains in which he’d been locked.

Their breaths itched, warm puffs of air making their noses slightly humid, panting mouths showing their teeth and tongues, so close to meet and meld. Keith’s body weighed on Lance’s, their members poking uncomfortably under the pants and on each other’s legs, praying to be set free to do what they must. 

A trembling, tan hand reached for Keith’s face, but before it made contact, the latter scrambled to his knees, falling back and sliding against the floor on his butt, blushing vividly as Lance’s mouth gaped, eyes stuck on his.

“Sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” the Galra basically yelled, a few feet away now. His forehead dribbled in sweat, cheeks and pointy ears hot to the touch as Lance’s breath was cut short. Keith’s fur stood on edge, tail frizzy. What had he done? Frantically, he reached for his robe and pulled it above his pubis, rock-hard erection most certainly visible through his pants.

Lance remained silent, speechless. This freaked Keith out immensely.

“Lance? I’m sorry, please don’t be mad-”

“I love you.”.

Just like that, Lance said it. And he repeated it.

“I love you, Keith. I love you.”.

He did, so much more than imaginable.

Once again he reached for Keith and, this time, he managed to gently caress his cheek with a slim thumb, fur soft under his touch. Lance liked it a lot, and even more when a purr escaped Keith’s lips, his chest vibrating in joy and enjoyment.

He mumbled, leaning further in Lance’s cool hand, “I... I love you too”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, they're about to frick-frack-snick-snack!!!! Next chapter will be HEAVILY NSFW.  
> See you around june 10, fellas :D ilysm


	7. the bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ NSFW content ahead ⚠️

Keith’s eyes were wide in disbelief, eyebrows arched in surprise and utter joy. Still, a veil of uncertainty hovered above them as his mouth quivered, words barely spoken, so shy and unsure.

“I love you, Keith.” Lance repeated, each word as if it was coaxed in honey, smooth and sweet, uncharacteristically easy as they rolled off his pink tongue. 

And Keith didn’t know what to say. He’d told Lance that his feelings were mutual, and now what? How was this going to end? He didn’t know. He’d never thought he’d survive long enough for this to happen to him. 

The Altean’s tan hand softly reached for Keith’s braided hair, gentle and not prying. 

“Is this okay..?”.

A small nod. And the daring hand slowly found its way to Keith’s neck, warm fingers rubbing against it. 

“Lance, I don’t know how to do...  _ This _ ”.

The alpha took an instant to process, before shaking his head gently, “You’ve never-?”

“No…”. And Keith’s face boiled as he admitted it, shying away. But Lance didn’t seem to be mocking him as he smiled, a tender look in his eyes.

“I can show you, if you allow me…”. His tone wasn’t quirky, because his was a real offer. He’d show Keith how to make love, how to feel loved. Because Lance loved Keith immensely.

“Please...” the omega nodded, hairs standing on edge. 

And with that, Lance leant forward, brushing his lips against Keith’s, the short hairs tickling his skin. Keith followed on instinct. He could feel the warmth and the moist skin of Lance’s lips as the latter pried his mouth slightly open, tongue licking Keith’s lips to make him part them. He did. Lance’s lips brushed Keith’s, longing for further contact, and just long enough that he could feel the Galra man’s itched breath on his mouth, feel the warmth of his fur, and the taste of the drink they’d had before it came to that. The omega brought a shaky hand up, placing in on the elegant jaw line of his alpha, thumb rubbing his cheek, feeling the warmth of the mark of the chosen as it glowed dimly but steadily. Keith’s heart felt like it was up in his throat, blood pumping frantically, a soft purr arising as his brain sent clear messages to the throat, causing it to twitch and vibrate rhythmically. 

Keith pulled away for an instant, biting his lip, suddenly self-aware.

“What?”

“I don’t know if this is right,” he spoke surprisingly soon, “you and I- we shouldn’t be doing this...”

“I don’t agree. This war isn’t our fault and, well, we are allowed to do this. We've been fighting non-stop to end it, it's not like we're wasting our days drinking at pubs-"

“But- but what if Lotor caught you red handed? He’d kill you, Lance, we both know that” Keith spoke gravely, “I don’t want you to get hurt”.

The Altean breathed out softly, cradling Keith’s hands in his and bringing them close to his pounding chest. 

“Lotor does not have a saying in my private life, and he never will. I decide for myself, Keith. If- if you want this, that’s all I need to proceed.”

“But, Lance-”

“Keith, I’m serious. Do you want it? Do you want me?”.

An hesitant, heavy pause followed. It seemed to last for decaphoebs, and when Keith nodded, shyly but evidently aroused, time slowed down again.

“Then you don’t have to worry. About Lotor, or Haggar, or anyone. It’s just the two of us…”.

And Keith didn’t ask Lance to repeat himself. Nodding, he closed his eyes, letting the Altean move forward once again, planting soft and wet kisses on his neck, his fur surprisingly not making the whole ordeal weird as Lance kept humming and kissing him. Keith melted in his grasp, Lance’s slim arms now wrapped around the Galra man, holding his tight. The latter let his claws slightly sink into Lance’s hair as he was busy on his neck, and he moaned in pleasure, eyes fluttering close as he panted. He could feel his own heartbeat in his throat, in his limbs, in his crotch as Lance’s hand slid down, palming the rapidly-formed erection between Keith’s muscular thighs. 

“L-Lance...” he called, throwing his head back. Lance helped by grabbing the braided hair and yanking it further away to expose more neck, teeth sinking in as he sucked hard, bruising, marking his omega, holding him closer and tighter, the latter’s head stretched back impossibly. 

As Lance busied himself with Keith’s neck, the two sank toward the floor, not even bothering to move a few steps to reach the mattress. The emperor was pinned under the prince, still focused on giving as many hickeys as he could; admittedly, not seeing the bruises was a bit of a let-down for him, but he knew that everyone would have smelled his alpha’s scent anyway, so he let it slide as he kept on sucking, palming Keith’s crotch, teasing him, reaching for his balls and pulling away as soon as he made contact just to hear Keith’s sweet, disappointed moans. How he loved that aphrodisiac sound.

Gingerly, hesitantly, Keith attempted to slide one knee up just high enough to touch Lance’s crotch, still hidden under the pants. Lance shuddered, halting for a moment to stare at the omega under him before grinning and going back to his job, not before whispering “Don’t stop, pretty boy...” in such a bossy, commanding way that Keith thought he was a few seconds away from cumming already.

The omega decided to go one step further, gently swatting away Lance’s hand from where it palmed his crotch so that Keith could take care of himself there and then, restless and impatient over Lance’s teases. The latter didn’t seem to like the move as he stopped once again, eyes piercing. He clicked his tongue, raising one white eyebrow as he grinned.

“No, no. I will take care of you, don’t do anything…” he said calmly, moisturizing his lips before propping himself on his elbows and sliding downwards.

Keith’s already rapid breath hitched dangerously as Lance unbuttoned his pants and slid them down just above his knees along his underwear, revealing Keith’s throbbing erection in all its livid glory. Lance smirked, and the Galra man blushed, hiding his face behind one hand, keeping himself up on the opposite elbow as he averted his gaze, ashamed.

Lance eyed Keith’s crotch, toyed with his tiny balls gently, and slowly,  _ slowly  _ wrapped his mouth around the cock, letting Keith adjust to that sensation, savouring the sweat and the fine tremble that rocked the omega’s every part. The latter moaned, eyes wide, mouth stretched open similarly to Lance’s.

“Oh _ ffff _ … Fuck, wow. La-Lance!”. His hips almost moved on instinct as Lance’s head started bobbing up and down rhythmically, his hands at the base of those couple of inches of erection that Lance couldn’t fit in his mouth. And Keith,  _ oh,  _ he was huge to be just an omega.

His toes curled and his legs spasmed at Lance’s every stroke; he could feel the Altean’s smooth tongue licking him, teasing him, randomly interrupting the usual rhythm just to piss Keith off and hear him groan, weak and on edge, and tired and aching and longing for  _ more. _

Pointy teeth sank in the furry skin as Keith bit his own hand, trying not to scream and cry, almost drawing blood. As much as the two of them felt like they were in a paradisiac reality now, they were both very aware of the dire situation, so trying to keep quiet was the bare minimum they could do now, Still, blood couldn’t go up and down the body simultaneously, thus leaving Lance and Keith floating in a dazed state, non-caring of the world, suspended, in peace.

Lance seemed to like Keith’s signs of distress immensely, smirking as he sucked Keith off with more insistence, taking priceless pleasure in the omega’s little noises of enjoyment, frustration, overwhelming fear and desire.

Drops of white semen began pouring from the tip of Keith’s cock, and Lance immediately tasted it gladly, surprised that  _ his  _ omega had resisted that long despite he’d been hard since the very beginning. 

“La… Lance,” his voice trembled, “st'p, m’gonna… M’gonna-!”. Freeing the hand from his teethy grip, Keith grabbed Lance's white mane, pulling it as if to find his anchor because he had the certainty that he was about to-

"Gaah~ Uh, mnn, s'rry- aah… Lance!!" he yelled as he spilled his semen.

Lance gagged on it, but swallowed the liquid knowingly, mouth skilled and rapid, reflexes on edge as he brought his hands up to pin Keith’s spasming hips down as he thrusted on instinct. Droplets trickled down Lance’s chin, while he swallowed what he could handle, breathing through his nose calmly.

Keith still groaned and whimpered, head thrown back, eyes fluttering close as tears streamed down, mouth panting and heaving, enthusiasm palpable on his spent face.

Once Lance was sure that the omega was done, he let go, hands under his chin as he eyed the other.

“You’re so pretty, Keith...” he murmured, blushing at the sight, “I want to see you  _ all _ naked, pretty boy”

“I… I want to see you too” came the reply, barely a whisper, but sincere.

Just the thought of seeing Lance naked made Keith’s head spin fast, the drunken state he was in aggravating with the mere mental picture of that. The Altean seemed to notice, amused and flattered too.

He got on his knees, still near Keith’s hips, and slowly started to strip, the dirty cape thrown away mindlessly, skilled and slim fingers unbuttoning the sweaty shirt, the mud-stained boots, the constricting pants and underwear that uselessly tried to conceal his erection, all tossed on the other side of the small room. Tan, smooth skin was finally revealed to Keith’s eyes as he stared in awe and wonder. Lance’s sharp lineaments stood vividly now that he was bare; the omega couldn’t help but let his gaze trail all over the alpha’s body, from his long feet, then to skinny ankles, and to his defined calves and thighs, morbid and not particularly muscular, and his pelvis and hips, white curls shily hiding the base of Lance’s crotch. And his tummy, no abs in sight, yet fit and thin, bones protruding slightly- the hips’ especially- made Lance look just like a doll, pecs defined and not as hairy as Keith had imagined they’d be. The nipples were dark, tiny and horizontally elongated- the omega found them  _ adorable _ . His eyes then rose up to Lance’s neck that he’d gazed upon since the first time they’d met, the robe he was wearing back then luckily leaving that part uncovered. 

“Huh, do you like what you’re seeing?” Lance asked, seemingly amused as he scratched the back of his neck. Keith’s eyes snapped wide open, finally out of his trance as he stuttered.

“Mh..? Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t-”

“Keith.” he called, calmly, “it’s alright. Mine was a genuine question"

“R-really?”

“Yeah… You seemed lost, and that’s either really good or really bad.” Lance explained, blushing slightly. Lance was no virgin, he hadn't been for a long long time. He was seventeen, maybe eighteen decaphoebs old when he first had sex; it hadn’t meant anything to him, but after that he’d have sexual encounters more often than not, mostly with Lotor whenever he was available. And the advisor surely wanted Lance, while the opposite statement wasn’t entirely truthful; the prince had liked Lotor, but he’d grown out of his crush, realizing just how manipulative the half-breed had been and still was. Yet, whenever he needed to get off, Lotor always seemed eager to help, and since he wasn’t bad at all, Lance was glad to have him as a trusted advisor and close,  _ very  _ close friend. That was until Lance had learnt that someone could love him for something that went beyond his appearance, like Keith did. And since the two had met, almost six phoebs ago, Lance had become less and less interested in having sex with Lotor, due to the latter’s obsessive behaviour and unsettling bursts of anger. He’d never hurt the prince except for that one time in the bathroom, but Lance- and Keith, too- didn’t doubt that, one day, he would have. That’s why the young lovers wanted to get rid of him and of Haggar too, because that would have resulted not only in the removal of two tyrants, but also in Lance and Keith’s freedom. And Lance, he wanted Keith to love him so desperately.

Keith smiled shily, eyes low as he fiddled with his hands in his stained lap. 

“I was just- admiring you, since I’d never seen you naked before. I... I wanted to look at you whole. And you’re gorgeous, honestly.” he muttered, “I didn’t mean to stare, Lance. I’m sorry for that”

“Don’t apologise. I’m happy I lived up to your expectations!” Lance chuckled.

The room fell silent once again, the boys avoiding eye-contact at all cost. What could they do? Stop there and move on? Or, maybe-

“Do you- want to take this to the next step, Lance?”

“...I’d love that, but only if you want it too. I don’t want to push you-”

“You’re not. I… I really want this. I’m… I’m ready. I think I’m finally ready for what’s next”.

_ I am. I promise I am. _

“Alright,” Lance gulped, playing with his hands nervously- and why was he so nervous? He felt like he was a teen again- “you want me to lead?”

“I’d love it, Lance. So… H-how do I..?” he gestured vaguely to himself.

“Get naked first, maybe?” Lance snorted, a hand covering his mouth as he snickered in front of Keith’s obvious question. He wasn’t mocking him, but the whole ordeal was fairly amusing. Yet, he promised to be as gentle as he could, and he was determined to keep that promise. Provided that Keith wouldn’t ask him to go rough, because in that case Lance wasn’t sure that he was going to succeed in holding back, willy-nilly. If Keith were to ask for a demonstration of sheer power, Lance’s instincts would kick in on their own, unstoppable and fierce: that’s how nature worked.

In the meantime, Keith had stripped down, revealing his fur-covered body, the surface neat and fuzzy, soft to the touch- when did Lance’s hand reach the omega’s chest, anyway?

“You’re very pretty,” Lance complimented, gaze softening, “and warm…”. He got up, stretching a and out for Keith to reach, and he guided him to the mattress.

“Lance…” the omega breathed out as his mate gently laid him down on his back, Lance’s legs at Keith’s sides, naked crotches touching, slowly irrorated with blood.

He leant downwards, nose brushing against Keith’s, and then they kissed, lips wet and delicate, tongues reaching for the depths of their mouths, hands unsurely reaching for each other’s, their fingers entangled tightly. Keith’s facial fur tickled Lance, but he didn’t mind as he kissed his omega more, still kind and slow, allowing him to adjust, to savour the moment, to taste the warm saliva, to inhale the inebriating scent and let it numb him as much as possible. Keith let out a soft purring sound, chest and throat vibrating: it was new for Lance, since Lotor had never done that before, nor did the other few people he’d slept with- mostly heirs to the throne of other civilizations. And Lance loved that strange warmth spreading across him and Keith.

“I love it when you purr, pretty boy” he confessed.

“Did I? I- I didn’t even realise...” Keith smiled, timid and flustered as he busied Lance’s mouth again, scratchy tongue making its way inside the Altean’s mouth. He was taken aback when he felt Lance’s hand trail downwards, not towards his crotch but towards his back.

“Keith, can I grab it?”

“Mh..?”

“Your tail. Can- can I grab it, please?”. Was this okay to ask, he wondered as soon as the strange request left his mouth. Keith nodded, smiling softly as he always did, so soft and lost. 

“Yes, I’d like that a lot”.

Lance's fingers skillfully wrapped around the tail, clearly mimicking something else as they strode it up and down, pumping gently with the sole purpose to arouse Keith more. He succeeded, without too much effort. The omega was panting already, all the nerves in his tail sending signals and impulses throughout his body, vibrating, pulsing steadily. 

"L-Lance, I want you to fuck me..." he blurted out, too out of it to even care about the direct sentence he used, any remaining shame gone.

And Lance smirked, pleased. He slid back, a trail of saliva between his and Keith's lips falling down on the latter's chest as he panted, a hand on his forehead as he looked at the alpha while he grabbed a couple of pillows- the only ones in that small safe-house.

"Let me put these here for you." he said, and slid them under Keith's lower back to get a better angle and make everything easier. Truth is, Lance wasn't used to facing his mate during an intercourse, but he was willing to give it a try. For Keith, he was willing to do anything.

"Your hole seems ready, Keith" he constated, eyeing said bodypart as Keith looked away, pouting.

"Don't... Don't look at it."

"Why?" Lance asked, index tracing its rim as Keith inhaled sharply, surprised, "your every part is pretty. Just tell me when it's okay". When he witnessed the omega nod in response, he slowly, gingerly slid a finger in; the hole was moist already, properly lubrificated and ready for sex. Lance was glad, and removed the index only to slide it back in along his middle finger.

"Have you ever done this to yourself, Keith?"

"Y-yeah, sometimes".

Lance hummed, "With how many fingers?"

"Only t-two... Ah. Aah~ Lance..." Keith gulped, eyes already rolling. The alpha chuckled, and put his ring finger inside as well; the hole throbbed around it, pulse rapidly picking up its speed with each and every movement. Lance was dying to just fuck Keith as hard as he could, but he wanted the omega to have a wonderful experience, so the routine he adopted with those who surely had done this a thousand times already didn't seem like the right choice for this occurrence.

Keith's hips rose as he shuddered loudly, head lolling, "Lance, pl-please... More~".

And that's all Lance needed to hear. He removed his fingers, and propped himself into position; with his hands, he pinned Keith's wrists to the mattress, their chests close as they heaved and quivered with thrill. Pitch black pupils met ocean eyes in a rare and intimate moment, for time seemed to stop, and their problems seemed to fade into nothingness.

In Keith's eyes, Lance saw fear for the future and trust for him, unpleasant memories fighting hard to resurface- fighting against Keith's brave attempt to lock them away, just this once.

In Lance's eyes, then, Keith saw hope and despair, as if the two wholly opposite energies danced elegantly, balance between them perfect for the first time in a while.

The Altean felt his erection grow harder and harder as he leant to kiss Keith, and let his cock slide into the wet cloaca, stopping every couple of inches to let the virgin omega adjust at his own pace and liking.

"You 'kay?" Lance breathed out upon witnessing the pained wrinkles between Keith's eyebrows.

"Y-yeah. Y-you're huge..."

"M' not even halfway in… N' you're tight" Lance commented truthfully, hoping to earn a laugh to ease the tension. He didn't, and it was hard for him to determine whether Keith was angry or-

"Don't st-stop..." he whispered, fists tight, "go all i-in...".

Lance did, still slowly, but all in once. Keith panted and gasped, groaning, whimpering, body automatically trying to flee.

"You're very brave, pretty boy..."

"Th-thank you, La- aah~" the moan interrupted the sentence, and it was the most arousing thing that Lance had ever heard. So far, at least. 

The alpha kissed Keith's neck, trailing down to his pecs, sucking the nipples- the fur didn't stop him earlier and it was certainly not going to stop him now. 

"Mnn, aah! Yeah~".

Keith moaned more, and his arms thrashed so that the alpha would leave them free. When he did, he reached to grab the white locks, massaging Lance's scalp, letting his claws sink in and making Lance groan in response.

"Can I-?"

"Do it. Pl'se!" Keith interrupted.

_ Fuck me. Please, Lance, just fuck me. _

As if he'd read in his mind, the Altean man steadily began fucking Keith, rocking his body, back sliding against the mattress up and down. The omega wrapped his legs around Lance's lower back, while taking care of the upper part with his hands, feeling the defined shoulder blades, the shallow indentation where the spine was, scratching the skin, marking Lance as  _ his _ property.

"L'nce, m-make me yours, aah~".

Obeying, Lance fucked him harder at that, in a sort of vindictive way.

"Pr'tty boy, behave for m-  _ ooh _ shit, ggh~".

He thrusted energetically, going all the way in, deeper and deeper, as far as he could reach. Keith's moans and pleas where music to his ears, pushed him further on edge as he mercilessly drilled the omega below him. 

"Gaah! L'nce! Aaah, L'nce, ohh~ fuck!"

"Keith, Keith! Pr'tty boy, s-so good n' pretty for me~ ye-ees, aah!!".

Lance shoved his tongue in Keith's panting mouth, teeth clanking painfully, their lips stretching wider to take in as much as they could. They were close.  _ So close. _

Keith's feet were awkwardly angled, toes pointing in different directions as his whole being spasmed, thighs locked onto Lance as the latter drilled into him. And Lance grunted like a feral animal with each thrust, stronger and more decided than the previous one, determined to absolutely wreck the poor omega.

He shoved his fingers in Keith's mouth, grunting a simple "Suck, hard!". And Keith did.

White droplets had already begun spilling from the omega's cock, and the flow had gotten steadier in the last minute.

"L'nce, m' close, m' so cl-close! Aah, fu-  _ uuh~  _ Lance!" he said despite the full mouth.

The Altean nodded, red in the face, eyes teary for the effort as he humped incessantly, "Me too, gnn~ I gotta pull 't out-"

"No! Stay!"

"But K'ith-"

"La- ahh!!". And Keith came, hard, spilling white semen on both their abdomens. He panted, shuddered, trembled and moaned, still cumming, still lost in his stance, but vehemently muttering to  _ please, cum into me! _

Less than ten tics later, Lance came too, just as loudly, unceremoniously spraying his semen inside Keith, residual droplet trickling down the cloaca onto the mattress. He grunted and groaned, and his eyes rolled back entirely, the marks under them glowing brightly as he quivered and emptied his semen, shuddering and screaming. Keith thought that he was grotesque and stunning.

Still trembling, Lance flopped beside Keith, eyes now scrunched in something halfway between unbearable pain and absolute satisfaction. 

Keith, still trying to regain full operativity, looked at his mate, stunned. He did it. He finally did it.

_ I can't believe I just did it..! _

And it had been the best physical experience he'd ever had; surely jerking off would have not been as great now.

"D'you like it..?" Lance asked, gulping, throat still raw from all the screaming- and Keith was in the same exact situation. The latter nodded, enthusiastically.

"T'was awesome, Lance..." he forced out, "did I do good?"

"Fuck yeah you did, pretty boy" Lance teased again, and Keith exhaled in amusement, turning on his side to face the spent alpha. His disheveled bangs were plastered to his tan forehead, sweat running down his temples, nose, chin, neck. The thin, shiny layer covered the entirety of his body, and the omega felt rather jealous because his fur surely didn't look that gorgeous. Still, it was shinier than before, and smelled differently. He had been marked. He had a mate now. And he was going to keep him at all costs.

Lance noticed Keith looking at him, and smiled tenderly, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Your tail's doing the thing, look"

"Uh, what?". And Lance simply raised a finger to point at it.

Effectively, Keith's tail was curling up on one side and on the other, slowly, delicately.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I really don't have much control over that..."

"Don't say sorry, I think it's a very cute thing! And... What does it mean when your tail curls like that?"

"Well, it's not like we learn it from books, it's just connected to our feelings. And..." he put a hand on his chest, "And now, I'm happy. Very happy. I'm happy, and satisfied, and loving" Keith explained, and Lance turned on his side too to listen better, staring at the boy with sparkly eyes, so full of love and recovered warmth.

Because Lance loved Keith. He really did. What he'd said earlier wasn't just the thrill of the moment, it was real.

"Lance," Keith called, "are you mad at me 'cause I let you cum inside?".

_ Oh _ . 

He hadn't really thought about that yet.

"I'm not angry, just... Confused."

"Oh… Listen, if this results in a pregnancy, I won't ask you to take care of the baby, so don't worry, alright? I don't even know why I-"

"Keith, no. If this results in a pregnancy, I'll help too. This would hypothetically be my baby too, and I'd take it if you let me...". Lance's gaze trailed away, and for the first time he seemed hesitant of his choices, insecure. 

"This isn't the best world to drag a new life into now. But, were you to give birth to our kid, we'd make it work".

Keith's gaze was fixed upon Lance, the latter still looking away, "I'll let you know then".

Lance nodded and sat up, grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed, drenched in sweat but immaculate somehow. He draped it over Keith and himself before laying back down next to his mate.

The two were only a few inches apart, breaths meeting each other's face, toes brusging gently. Keith leant forward, his eyes closed, and Lance did the same. The kiss they shared was delicate, not nearly as passionate as the ones they did earlier. But it was still heartfelt, weighty of meaning.

"Goodnight, Keith"

_ I love you, Keith. _

"Goodnight, Lance"

_ I love you, Lance. _

**-**

That wasn’t an isolated event. Lance and Keith kept meeting more often than not, making love, savouring the moment, living as nothing was important as the two of them together. 

Because they were whole. They were meant to be together.

Both of them had gradually become acquainted with the familiarity of Keith’s tight hole squeezing Lance’s slick cock, trapping the member inside, inflating, throbbing and spasming, spilling. Hands on each other’s body, covering every tiny spot, sloppy kisses planted whenever they could reach, fingers entangled, bodies huddling for warmth and comfort.

Phoeb after phoeb, the passion only bloomed, their libido skyrocketing, hearts hammering in their chests. They were really meant to be together.

**-**

Separating in the morning was never easy, but Lance and Keith knew that their duties were more important than feelings in such delicate times; this didn’t make the separation any more pleasant, that is.

When Lance stepped into his castle, after one particularly pleasant night, not a worry in the world, he immediately realized that something didn’t feel right. Where were the guards that were supposed to welcome him and escort him to his room safely? Where were the servants and the council members? 

_ Where is everyone..? _

The echo of his steps resounded loudly in the deafening silence, and Lance warily looked around, fearing a possible enemy infiltration. But still, the people outside the castle didn’t seem troubled nor scared, and they surely would have offered him shelter if they’d known that enemies had violated the perimeter. Pupils darted from one side of the halls he was pacing in to another, ears involuntarily moving, trying to pick up any foreign noise.

But everything seemed normal, except for the total lack of people in the castle.

As Lance marched to his room- taking the long way- he didn’t notice anything missing, nor anything broken or vandalized, not a single drop of blood or anything that could indicate that any crime had been committed within those walls.

When he opened the door of his room, slowly pushing and twisting the doorknob, Lance was welcomed by a very pleasant yet terrifying sight. When did he-

“Prince Lance. It is surely good to see you.”

“...Lotor. What are you doing here? And where is everybody?”.

The half-breed got up from the bed he was sitting on, and slowly paced towards Lance, halting a few steps away. Everything about his presence screamed anger, and the prince had to remind himself that  _ he  _ was in charge, not Lotor. The beta’s fists were tight on, arms at his sides as he stood imponently, taller than Lance, and significantly more muscular.

“I ordered everybody out of the castle for today,” he explained, eyeing Lance, “for I have to discuss some impending matters with you, and I’m  _ afraid  _ I cannot wait any longer.”

“We- we could have simply discussed in a private room. This is a castle, it’s plenty of-”

“I didn’t want anybody around”. 

Lance raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, “Since when what  _ you  _ want becomes the law? Shall I remind you of your position, Lotor?”

“No need for that, Lance. I know exactly where I belong…”.

He walked up to the prince, staring intensely, wrath burning in his eyes as he looked at the young leader. The latter didn’t cower, and only exchanged the same look, fierce and sharp.

“My question is, do  _ you  _ know where you belong, My Prince?”

“What is that supposed to mean? Have you gone mad?” Lance hissed.

“Perhaps… And you surely helped, Lance. Advising a slut who sells himself to the enemy only to experience another kind of orgasm is tiring, I assure you”.

“Lotor!”, a slim finger planted into the advisor’s chest, “You are an insolent man who sins of arrogance because I was stupid enough to even let you ascend the position of right-hand man”. The prince was fuming, yet he managed to maintain composure despite everything that was happening. Lotor didn’t seem impressed as he hummed, but let the prince continue nonetheless.

“Long enough I’ve put up with your insubordinate ego, with the disrespect, and I am fed up with this! I am fed up with  _ you _ .” Lance bit, removing the finger, “My life is none of your business. I shall decide what to do with myself, I shall choose my enemies and my friends, I-”

The sharp, stinging pain to his cheek was enough to make him stop talking, shock washing over him as freezing water, adrenaline pumping in his veins and simultaneously halting his every movement. Lotor had hit him. Lotor had just  _ hit  _ him. Ocean eyes rose to meet Lotor’s empty ones, so cold and merciless. A lilac hand wrapped around Lance’s shirt, pulling him closer to the point where the two men’s noses brushed against each other, breaths hitched.

“Let me go.  _ Now _ .” Lance growled, livid as he tried to pull Lotor’s wrist away in vain. 

Lotor did not let go. Instead, he pulled closer, lips caressing Lance’s for a moment before he slid the long tongue in his mouth, the prince’s protests muffled as he trashed to pull away, succeeding after a painfully long instant. The grip on the shirt only tightened.

“Lotor- what the fuck are you doing!? Stop it!”

“I will do no such thing. You are  _ mine _ , Lance! This is the last chance I’m giving you.”

“Oh, ‘last chance’ of what, exactly? Fuck off!”

“Pledge your loyalty to me, Lance, and there will be no consequences for you.” the half-breed spoke right into the prince’s ear, “Fight me, and I will make sure that you and the Galra brat won’t see the start of the next movement.”.

Lance’s eyes widened in disbelief and fear, “Don’t you  _ dare  _ lay a hand on Keith, or-”

“You said ‘Keith’, mh? You two must be so close to use your first names like this… And to smell like each other.” Lotor sniffed the air in front of Lance, and dragged him to the bed, throwing him on it as the Altean yelped, “you  _ stink  _ of Galra! You are disgusting, nothing more than a spoiled traitor. You should be glad that your parents are dead already, or they would have had to witness the disgrace you’ve become!”

With an ugly growl, Lance snapped, and physically threw himself on the other man, overwhelming him as he delivered a punch to his face and then grabbed the sides of his head, pinning it on the floor. Lotor brought his free hands up and grabbed Lance’s ears, pulling them as the latter screamed in pain. They rolled, and the advisor found himself pinning the prince down, eyes wide, pupils shrunk as he licked his lips. He lifted Lance’s head by the ears, and the last thing the Altean man witnessed before it was slammed on the floor was Lotor’s ugly snarl, thirsty for blood. 

Then, it all faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, huh? My beta and I have been super busy with exams and such that we sadly had very little time to dedicate ourselves to fics, but we're back, stronger than ever. We might update next week, since ch8 is already ⅓ done.  
> Thank you for your patience 💞


	8. the betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we're late, summer is messing up our schedule (mostly because of naps in my case).  
> Just a warning, there's gore and vomiting in this chapter, be careful if these themes upset you.  
> Thank you for your patience and please, enjoy!

Lance came to an unidentified amount of time later, groaning as his whole body protested at the slightest movement; the very first thing he registered was that everything hurt beyond his imagination, like never before. His skull throbbed to the rhythm of his erratic heartbeat, alongside his wrists, which he only now noticed were held behind his back, a slim rope sinking in the skin, bruising it, scratching it and making it bleed steadily where it cut into his dark wrists.

 _Right… Lotor_.

Despite the possible concussion- and was his head bleeding or was it just the sweat that felt wet and sticky on his temple?- Lance remembered the past events clearly, chest filled with renewed rage and disdain, but also fear, for Keith was now in danger because of Lotor. The prince cursed under his breath, eyes wandering around the poorly lit cell- those hadn't been used for decaphoebs, so at least there were not unpleasant smells or whatever. Still, the whole situation was downright disastrous. If Lotor knew that Keith was in this, it meant that he had probably talked to Haggar too, and Lance didn’t want to think of the consequences. Surely enough, Lotor was powerful, but he was a simple man. Haggar, however… She was the chief of the druids, the most powerful cult known on Daibazaal, feared by the Altean wizards. Lance didn’t care if Haggar would torture him, he didn’t care one bit; he was ready to endure it all, to face the consequences, to die for his people and for _his_ omega's safety and freedom.

But, speaking of Keith… Lance didn’t want to think of what Haggar would subject him to. Horrible visions of suffering and misery flashed before his ocean eyes as he held his breath because _what if Haggar’s found Keith already? What if he’s-_

No. He would not allow himself to think like that. Keith was going to be okay. Lance was his alpha, thus it was his duty to fight for his lover, to shield him from whatever menace he faced. And Lance was not going to let Keith down. He was not going to let Keith die.

With renewed faith, Lance slowly got up, wincing loudly as his body trembled, but he stood nonetheless. For his people. For himself. For Keith.

_I have to get out of here._

**-**

Lotor paced slowly towards the main hall, empty as he’d ordered. _Finally_ , things were taking the desired turn, content visible on his twisted grin as he reached his destination.

The flimsy curtains (ridiculous to the half-breed’s advice) moved as he shoved them aside, and the cloaked figure in the room slowly turned around, piercing eyes scrutinizing the advisor.

And, then, the figure took the hood off, lilac hands gently grabbing the cloth and putting it down, greasy hair falling in front of the familiar face.

And Lotor grinned.

He and Haggar stood in the poorly lit room, a reverential distance between them as they shared gazes, distant yet satisfied with their doing. The two figures had been planning to meet for several phoebs now, though revealing Lotor’s plan to the Altean prince was not a contemplated part of it. It was too late to go back.

Haggar had known about Keith’s relationship with Lance for a long time, ever since the two met for their very first encounter; Keith’s scent had changed, even so slightly, but nothing was unnoticed by the commander of the druids. So, the witch had contacted Lotor, who was aware of Lance’s newly-found relationship too. He didn’t have the means to usurp the throne, but when Haggar had contacted him, Lotor knew that his plan was officially a go. Now, all they needed was to make the princes disappear, and Lance had unknowingly accelerated the process by coming back so soon- sooner than what Lotor was expecting.

“I assume that you sent the druids after the Emperor already.” he stated, making the first move.

“Your assumption is incorrect, for gathering the two unwanted annoyances will be more effective than making them disappear separately. We shall finally organize a physical conflict between our empires in order to cover our traces once we effectively get rid of them.” Haggar explained, and Lotor hummed.

"Are you suggesting that we unleash our armies on the battlefield and throw the corpses there so that nobody will suspect us?”.

A nod.

“It seems like a good plan, I have to admit it. But before we end their lives, we have to make them delegate all their power to us, or this whole plan will be futile...” Lotor pondered, a hand on his chin, “I still have Lance chained up, but perhaps I have a better idea on how to handle him.”

“I trust your judgment, Lotor. Do what you must.”.

-

Saying that Keith was worried was an understatement. Something didn’t feel right, _he_ didn’t feel right. It had been too quiet in his palace, with Haggar nowhere in sight and the servants skillfully avoiding him with half-felt apologies and excuses. Furthermore, he felt like Lance was in danger, but he didn’t know how or why, he just-

“I have to get him. I have to get Lance, now.”

So he ran down the stairs as fast as he could, his feet feeling strangely heavy, stomach bubbling with each step, throat tight and even tighter when he found the sturdy entrance doors shut. Only once he’d seen them shut, and that was under siege, back when Shiro was still on the throne. Keith grit his teeth.

“Guards, open the doors.” he called, looking behind his back. But nobody seemed to be coming, and he certainly didn’t have the right keys now the strength to tear the massive gates apart for him to escape. The emperor sighed. Escaping, that what he was doing, he’d become a prisoner in his own reign.

“Guards! That’s an _order_ , I won’t repeat myself!” he barked again, no avail as his voice fell on distant, indifferent ears. He grunted, and ran back to his room, painfully aware of his heavy limbs, movements so slow as the corridors mixed and twirled. 

-

Lance ran. His every part protested at the clumsy, pained movements as he made his way toward the council hall, right outside the palace, carefully listening if Lotor was anywhere near- he wasn’t, for now.

Bursting out of the cell hadn’t been easy, and his ribs and right arm throbbed in agony after he’d slammed himself into the rusty door multiple times to tear it down. _Thank goodness it’s an old cell_ , he’d thought right after breaking it.

Despite Lance’s most impending desire was to go to Keith, he knew he had to counterattack Lotor’s outrage before that, and warning the council was the only thing that would have worked. Lance did have the power to banish Lotor from Altea, but he knew that his decision would have been frowned upon if he’d been the only one to agree. But Lance’s body was bruised and beaten, clear proof of the abuse he’d endured, and the cell’s door was probably still down, since Lotor didn’t look like the type to fix doors for a living- he probably didn’t even know how to assemble a shelf properly. The thought was almost amusing, if it weren’t for the fact that Lotor was explicitly plotting to murder Lance and Keith.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lance skidded to a halt in front of the entrance door. He ran, lanky legs making their way toward the outside-

Three shadowy figures materialized from thin air right in front of him, and he stopped dead on his tracks, falling down as an arm rose instinctively to shield his face.

“What the- who the fuck are you?” he yelled, getting up. That was a stupid question, since he didn’t need for these entities to answer.

Druids. Galra druids. Unmistakable, with their faces hidden behind that white, pointy mask, whole body concealed under the raisin-purple cloak. And these guys certainly were bad news.

Lance’s eyes widened at the realisation that, if the druids were there on Altea, it meant that Haggar was there as well. Lance knew that the Witch would never send druids to capture a prince without coming along, for she always wanted to make sure to end the prey for good- from what Keith had told him. He gritted his teeth, a fine thread of sweat running down his temples, mixing with the crimson blood that still dripped down his face, onto his robe. Lance took a hesitant step forward- 

“You shall come with us, Prince Lance.” one druid spoke, voice haughty and guttural. It made Lance’s uncharacteristically ashen skin crawl, but he didn’t show it, or at least he tried not to. 

“I will do no such thing. Leave my planet at once.” he hissed, “I do not fear your kind. Magic or not, I will not obey you. Leave!”.

The druids didn’t seem to let up, but Lance expected it. So, he considered his options.

If he let the druids get him, they’d drag him to Haggar and she would either kill him or use him as bait to get to Keith. And if Lance had to pick, he preferred the first option.

He wondered if slamming his body against a druid’s would work. 

_Let’s give it a shot, then!_

Electricity zapped from the fingertips of the druids' clawed hands, and Lance saw white. He fell to the floor in a heap, writhing in pain, hissing and grunting as his body convulsed and spasmed, head hitting the white marble repeatedly, eyes rolling back, pink froth dripping from the sides of his lips. But he was awake, and aware. His mission- he had to get to the council hall. He had to warn them, and then Keith. 

Lance's throat felt raw from the screaming- he didn’t even realise he’d been yelling until now- and his body buzzed, a weird staticity feeling wrecking through his spine. He gasped and panted, struggling to inhale, and slowly, gingerly, painfully rose to his feet. The figures danced before his eyes, sight blurry, tunneling, distant.

“Impossible!” one of the druids noted, and the flow of electricity only intensified, sending Lance toppling over once again. He shouted, growled, cried as he tried to keep himself up with his elbows. And once again, the young prince rose to his unsteady feet, knees buckling under his weight, arms shaking violently. Blood had started to drip from his nose, thick and dark, it stained his lips and he licked them, copper liquid leaving a strange feeling in his mouth. It didn’t get any better when blood started to pool in the back of his throat and he gagged on it, leaning forward as Lance coughed it out. It stained his boots, specks of crimson so vivid and scary to him.

_Fuck. Fuck, fucking shit, fuck-!!_

He didn’t realise that his feet were walking already, dragging across the floor as he approached what he guessed was the most important of these druids. His hands rose on instinct, and the druid was left baffled as Lance placed his hands on the sides of the druid’s head. 

What happened next was a mystery, and not even Lance himself could explain it.

As soon as his hands made contact, the marks under his eyes started to glow of a numbing, white light, and his eyes and hands did the same, palms shining blinding rays, melting their way through the druid’s mask, reaching his skin, boring it-

The victim collapsed, lifeless, sprawled onto the blood-stained floor. Blood pooled under the druid's head, or where it used to be, at least.

The other druids stared in shock, and eyed Lance- not that he could see their yellow orbs beneath those masks. In a rapid movement, they were dead too, skulls melted under his touch, bodies collapsing on the floor with muffled thuds. More blood, more crimson blood had been shed, and he was the culprit of those _murders._

The prince held his breath, skin crawling- both for the shockwaves and for fear that the situation would change and put him in any more danger. 

But that didn't happen.

The air remained still, silent, not a single sound audible besides Lance's increasingly rattled breaths, echoing in his chest cavity that felt too, _too_ heavy.

“I… What…”.

They were dead. Lance had killed them. He'd fried the druids' brains and-

Red-tinged vomit spewed from his lips as he blew chunks on the floor. He started to throw up, getting on all fours, guts twisting and burning, eyes watering at the stench of bile and blood and-

He vomited again. Lance raised his gaze when he realised that nothing else was coming up, _thankfully._ His eyes were back to that warm blue that made his eyes special- he brought them up to meet that gruesome show, and he heaved once more. He’d never done that before, he’d never-

Air. He was not getting any air. Pain shot through his skull, and he fell to his knees, cradling his head as he yelped. His body felt unusually tense, stiff- 

The young prince’s head spun, the room swirling and twirling around him, vision fading and graying, sounds muffled, consciousness replaced with crippling, unforgiving darkness. 

-

"Lance?" Keith called softly, cradling his juniberry-scented hair, claws careful not to hurt him.

"Yeah?"

"I have been thinking about something lately, but I fear you'll tell me I'm crazy...".

The Altean prince snorted, and carefully got up, avoiding headbutting Keith. He looked at the omega in the eyes, fondly, that gaze reminding him of just how much Lance loved Keith. He grinned, gently.

"I'd never say that," he reassured, tugging Keith's braided hair behind his ear, "so what is it that you wanted to tell me?".

Keith seemed hesitant as he lowered his gaze. He fiddled with his fingers nervously, hands now folded on his lap. He gulped, slowly meeting the ocean orbs that he fell in love with.

"Have you ever been to Olkarion?" he asked, and Lance raised a white eyebrow, nose scrunching up in confusion and reflection as he pondered.

"I think so, yeah. I met the Olkari leader once, but that was many decaphoebs ago." Lance explained, "Why?"

"You know how they, huh, give asylum to refugees, right?".

Lance only nodded, growing more and more worried and curious.

"Well," Keith exhaled shakily, "I was thinking that maybe we could... You know, huh, start a family there..?".

The prince was taken aback by that, and Keith probably noticed as he clumsily fumbled for words, hairs standing on edge and tail curling incessantly.

"I mean, once the war is over and all- not now. I wouldn't even ask you to drop everything like this, I wouldn't leave now either!" he added, sputtering the words rapidly for fear that he'd freaked Lance out beyond recovery. Even if they'd been dating- more like, meeting in secret- for almost a decaphoeb, the situation they found themselves in was indubitably unusual, out of the ordinary.

"Keith, calm down. I... I was just trying to put everything together. I, huh..." Lance massaged his temples as he huffed out a choked laugh, "I would love that. Gosh, I've been meaning to ask you that for a while, but it never seemed like the right time." the Altean confessed, scratching the back of his head as he blushed, flustered, "once the war is over, we can leave and never come back. I... Keith, I want kids. Many, many kids. But, huh, I know it's all so sudden, so I-"

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"I want it too. Many kids, as many as we can. A big, happy family, right?" the Galra emperor smiled gently, cradling the alpha's face in his hands.

And Lance did the same.

Lips brushed against the others, unhesitant, and melted into a soft kiss, timid and naive, delicate. 

Lance slowly pulled away, gazing at his partner, "You really mean it..?".

A nod, followed by a tiny smile. However, Keith's eyebrows knitted together as his stare grew harder, and Lance almost felt like flinching, but he didn't detect any change in Keith's smell. Still, something was off.

"Keith..?" he called.

"My love, listen."

And the prince gulped, breath cut short at the urgency in his boyfriend's tone. 

"If you want this too," Keith breathed out in his ear, making his back hair stand up, "you need to wake up, Lance."

The Altean man blinked once, then twice; he met Keith's orbs again, and blinked once more.

"Wake up."

"What..?"

"Wake up, Lance. You have to wake up."

"Keith-"

"Wake up!"

-

Lance came to, yelling, gasping and panting for breath, toppling sideways as he coughed, more blood coming up, air burning as it rushed into his oxygen-starved lungs. 

"Wha'-!?".

Memories disoriented him as they rushed to his mind rapidly, aggravating the nausea. 

The light from outside blinded him, daylight too bright for his dizzy head. Lance's whole body trembled and spasmed as he looked around, confused, disoriented, lost.

Where was he? What was-

His ocean gaze fell on the corpses of the druids a few steps away, and he instantly paled, stomach churning once again.

Right, the druids, he'd killed them. And then he'd seized, probably. But he was okay now.

Maybe not okay, but alive at least.

Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he had killed the druids, blown their brains up quite literally. He didn't question this new ability, not now that he didn't even have the time to think. He had to get to the council, he had to warn them about Lotor.

Grimacing as more blood flowed from his nose, Lance got up, shakily, knees buckling dangerously as he risked face-planting on the floor. He held his abdomen, it felt like it was on fire. It felt like _he_ was on fire. Whatever the druids had done to him, whatever that electricity had been- it had messed him up for good. 

Despite the gut-wrecking pain, Lance moved toward the council hall, only a few doboshes away. The gardens were empty and quiet, so uncomfortably still as his eyes darted from one side to another, looking out for possible danger, or maybe for a possible ally. The prince's vision swayed, edges gray, body growing heavier with each step. He felt a sob bubbling up at the back of his throat, lungs squeezing and heaving.

_Shit. Am I going to die… so soon?_

Lance was scared. He didn't want to die. It was so soon, too soon, he didn't-

"Prince Lance!" exclaimed a familiar voice from a few meters away, and the woman to whom it belonged ran to the Altean man. Her eyes widened as she scanned him from head to toe, and she stepped forward to help, hands grabbing his upper arms, sustaining his failing body. Lance blinked through the haze, gritting his teeth as he tried to put the image together, to understand who that was. _Oh_.

"-ce Lance, are you alright? Ancients, what did you do?" the woman- M'lahr, senior member of the council- asked urgently. She didn't wait for a reply, and instead she gently led Lance inside the small building, the council hall, and sat him onto one of the chairs. 

The other members quickly gathered around him, eyes prying, questions dizzying Lance further, making his stomach lurch and knot. He only got less than a half of what they were telling him. 

"L-Lotor... He-" he breathed out, straightening in the chair. He brought a hand up to his mouth and pressed on it as he felt coppery saliva dripping down his chin. 

_Fuck..._

"Lotor?" M'lahr parroted, raising a thin eyebrow, "what of him, now?".

The other members of the council stopped talking at once at the mention of the royal advisor.

Lance swallowed, eyes shut tightly as he tried to focus, with no avail. Everything hurt too much. His whole being felt detached, yet heavy as lead, mind numb and sheepish, any task too hard to accomplish, the bare act of breathing agonising for Lance's strained lungs and throat, raw and bleeding- and maybe, he thought, he had a collapsed lung too, but he did not want to jinx it.

He swallowed, mouth dry and bloodied, "L'tor, he's a t-traitor..." he rasped, heaving for air, "he sent 'ruids after me, 'nd Haggar too, I think..." he explained. Lance hoped they'd understand. 

But when nobody even gasped in shock, nor asked any explanation, Lance's stomach dipped, heart sinking too. Had he not been clear enough? Maybe they were just-

"So soon? We did not think he would have acted so promptly..." one of the members commented under their breath, but not caring to remain undehard. Another hummed, and soon the room was filled with pensive voices, reflecting Lotor's action as if they already-

"You... Knew..?" Lance realised, trembling.

"Prince Lance," M'lahr spoke softly, crouching down in front of the sitting man, "you have to understand... What Lotor is doing, what he and Haggar are accomplishing is what is best for our people," she explained calmly, as if she were talking to a toddler. Lance felt like passing out.

He had been betrayed by the people he trusted the most, he was essentially alone in the universe now. His only hope was-

"Keith..."

"The Garla Emperor? Oh, do not worry about him, for he'll be out of our hair soon." the Altean woman chirped out, getting up, "We can get you help, Prince Lance. From the looks of it, you do not have much time left. However, if you come with us and accept Lotor as our leader, I am sure that he will find the best healers in the system for you." she offered. In a caring gesture, she pushed Lance's sweaty bangs aside, but he swatted her hand away, agony spiking from his body at the rapid motion.

Lance's word spun, as he gripped the armrests of the chair, getting up as more blood dripped down his nose. In his eyes, the flame of anger burnt bright, nose scrunched in disdain as he eyes the people who he used to trust the most. 

"You... B'trayed your P-Prince..." he hissed, "you're..." he was cut short by a coughing fit, wet and sticky as he doubled over. Lance slurred curses and insults, whispering, and made his way toward the exit, bumping into the people there, into the traitors he'd shared his life with. They didn't stop him.

"Prince Lance, this is your last chance for redemption. Join us, or we will not hold back on the battlefield. Don’t waste your parents’ efforts to make Altea so powerful, young Prince!" M'lahr warned, fists tight as she eyed the former leader unsteadily walked away, swaying, tripping over his own feet, head hung low as he followed the path toward the city, out of that Castle, out of that prison that he'd considered his home. Maybe it was his last time there.

 _It probably is..._ he thought, boiling tears pooling at the corner of his eyes, getting gradually blind with each passing dobosh. 

"Keith... I'm c-c-com-" a violent spasm wrecked his body, limbs flailing occasionally, unprompted, making his shudder and groan, muscles tight on the verge of ripping.

His blurry vision made it hard for him to make out the worried faces of the Alteans he bumped into, as they frantically asked their prince if he was alright.

Lance was not alright, far from it, but he limited himself to wave a hand and move forward, only asking about when the next ship for Daibazaal was going to set sail. At one point, hearing became harder too, but Lance tried to hold his head up.

He was not going to die like that, not before having the chance to see Keith one last time.

-

Keith was hunched over the toilet of his room, a wrecking gag erupting from the back of his throat as he vomited, or attempted to do so. He gripped the sides of the bowl tightly, teary eyes scrunched in pain as he panted. A fine thread of saliva dangled from his mouth, watery bile spilling from trembling lips, nothing more than that coming up. His head spun rapidly, yet everything moved as if in slow-motion, objects in his line of vision twisted, elongated, collapsing on themselves. Keith let himself fall toward the cold tiles of the floor, laying there in all his misery.

"Fuck… F-fuck..." Keith hissed, followed by a guttural groan. This wasn't good. This was downright terrible. 

The Emperor hadn't been feeling well since two movements ago, but he'd ignored it for the sake of staying with Lance and working on his diplomatic tactics to end the war. Still, maybe ignoring this sickness had not been the wisest choice. 

Keith's legs felt heavy, just like his head, as if they were stuffed to the brim with cotton, dull and suffocating. Sweat damped his fur, skin underneath crawling, and the pain in his lower abdomen had not subsided, and when the vomiting came, Keith was mostly sure he had been poisoned. 

It made sense, with Haggar gone suddenly silent... But no, that could not be it. The realisation that his problem was of an entirely different nature came when heat was yet to happen. It was not unusual for a heat to hit him a couple of quintants before or after it was due, but now it was clear that this phoeb, heat was not happening. And that set Keith on edge. 

Because he was pregnant. 

He was pregnant, he knew it, and he'd hid it. Keith had ignored the symptoms for a too long time, he'd pretended they were not there-

But they were. 

He was expecting a child from Lance, and it was both beyond exciting and truly, extremely terrifying. Now, of all times, he was… They were...

Keith allowed himself to cry.

-

Getting on Daibazaal was harder than what Lance thought. Strangely enough, there were no patrols- he expected Lotor to send people after him, but he didn't... Not yet, anyway.

But the pain consuming every ounce of his strength had left the young prince- _or is it, overthrown prince?_ \- in a state of profound confusion, vision blurry and dazed, body shaking. His skin was clammy, scalding, cheeks tinged in red and purple, but Lance was also cold, as his bones rattled incessantly. He sat onto one of the seats on the ship, taking the lowest-class flight, avoiding any suspicion, but staying still was hard, because his body still jerked and spasmed against his command, muscles aching. He pressed a hem of the dirty cape to his nose, and it rapidly soaked with the blood that kept pouring out of it.

 _At least,_ he thought, _my guts have sort of settled down for now...._

To be more discreet, Lance had seriously considered getting rid of his fine crown, but no, he didn't want to, he couldn't: Lance wanted Keith to have it, were he to-

When the ship landed on Daibazaal, he bolted for Gyvluz's place, hoping to find Xa'li and Zuhwa too. He needed them, he needed to warn them. Uncertainty settled in his stomach, making his stomach lurch once again. What if they betrayed him too? What if he'd been lied to all this time? Lance clutched his stomach weakly as he paced painfully slow towards the base, squinting to make out the figures that eyed him as he dragged his body to the destination. Those people, his friends- they were his last chance. If they were safe, it meant that the Resistance still had a chance to win, to re-establish the status quo and overthrow Haggar and Lotor. Hope pushed Lance to keep walking, to keep going despite the agony, to hold the vomit and blood down- _later, later I'll find a healer and I'll be fine._

The familiar alley was the most beautiful sight he'd seen today, and he picked up the pace. Lance essentially slammed himself into the door, not bothering to take his boots off, not even turning the lights on-

The stench of blood took him aback, and he fell to the floor, shaking. 

_No._

No. This couldn't be, they couldn't-

Lance fearfully eyed the three corpses in front of him, bugs crawling on them, eating the flesh, tearing it apart. With a swift motion, the Altean man twirled around and vomited, eyes wide in horror.

Gyvluz, Xa’li, Zuhwa's gazes stared, fixed to an undefined point somewhere above them, mouths slightly agape, dripping blood like the holes in their chests, crimson pooling under the lifeless carcasses. 

Lance threw up again, and this time not only because of the gruesome scene before his own eyes; pain wrecked his being, it hammered his every bone, nerves like live wires, lungs unable to get even the smallest amount of air.

"M' sorry," he panted between one sob and the other, "m' s-sorry guys, I'm s-so-sorr- gahh!".

He fell to the floor, seizing as his body rattled and gained new bruises. Tics grew into vargas, time not making sense anymore, unraveling before his eyes as all he could do was stare, dizzy, dazed, a mere spectator in all that mess.

_"Wake up, Lance!"_

_Wake... Up..?_

Had he been sleeping? Lance didn't remember... Something, something- he had to do something, didn't he? 

_What... Was it..?_

It didn't matter. As long as he was with Keith, nothing mattered. But... Keith was not there. Where was Keith? 

Lance slowly sat up, events crashing down on his as he winced and groaned, massaging his head. He didn't know of he was just incoherent, if he'd been dreaming, if-

"Keith... I h-hafta get K-Keith." he said, getting up, not even knowing how. The stench of death pestered the room, but this time he didn't pay attention to the corpses, he didn't think it was his problem. Lance didn't know where he was, or who those were, or what was happening. 

Keith. He had to find Keith. For some reason, he felt like he needed to find Keith. Quickly, too.

_Is something... happening?_

"Probably..." he hummed, eyes fluttering but never closing. The pain didn't matter, now. He just had to get Keith, then everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klance knocked up? Klance knocked up, yes [cheering sound effect].  
> The final battle is about to begin, and who knows how it will end (we do, but we won't tell you yet). Wow, we're really nearing the end, how sad..! I'm writing ch9 right now, so I think you won't have to wait more than a week for it, and the epilogue won't be as long.  
> Thanks for reading, see you soon!


	9. the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, this is not the final chapter, but you'll understand very soon.  
> ⚠️ This is the most gruesome and violent chapter of the fic. There are descriptions of cruelties of all kind (all in the tags above), so please proceed with extreme caution. ⚠️

Darkness.

Cold.

Silence.

Harsh, hiccupping breaths, barely audible. His, Keith realized.

Tired eyes slowly blinked open, taking in their surroundings, blurry shapes coming together, an incomplete puzzle of forms and colors merging. Keith slowly sat up- when had he laid down?- from the chilly tiles on which he was sprawled, shivering, each breath harder than the previous one. His stomach twisted and knotted, the events from before flashing before his eyes rapidly.

How long was _before_? How long had it been since he’d passed out in that bathroom?

Keith shook his head, and slapped himself on the face, eyes scrunched in pain. He had to focus, and worrying about the time he’d wasted was not going to do any good. 

“Lance… I need to find him.” he murmured, and slowly, gingerly got up.

The emperor actually had to take a knee when the room spun a little too fast for his liking, head dizzy and fogged. But he didn’t give up, and rose to his unsteady feet.

As soon as his claws brushed against the doorknob he remembered about the main gates and how they were closed, more like, how they had been forcefully shut. 

He stepped back, exhaling shakily. Normally he’d jump from the window, though he’d never done that, but now…

Keith’s hand instinctively went to his belly, softly caressing it, heart clutching in joy and sadness. He knew that the possibilities of that child seeing the light were slim, and this made his chest feel tight with despair. He wished that he could go back and make up for it, flee sooner with Lance before all of that mess they’d dragged each other in even begun- but it was to no avail now. Going back was not an option.

Eyeing the window, warily, Keith stepped on the balcony, and glanced down careful to avoid anyone who could’ve seen him. Under it, there didn’t seem to be anyone, which was strange per se. His- or, Haggar’s, anyway- palace used to be heavily guarded, and the fact that he was the only one there was highly suspicious and upsetting.

Because Keith knew what it meant, he knew it too well.

“War...”.

The war had begun, the real one, fought on the battlefield, with dead bodies dropped down to the floor, corpses pestering the ground, the stench of death nauseating- Keith gagged again at the thought, partially solicited by the pregnancy.

 _Focus, Kogane. First things first._

Getting out of that room, or prison, was his first priority now, the most impending need. The jump would’ve probably upset his stomach, and possibly injured the baby, but Keith saw no alternative. Maybe he could soften the impact if he just-

His eyes glanced to his mattress, and he grinned. If they thought that pregnancy had made him stupid, they were wrong. Keith grabbed the thing and dragged it toward the balcony, grunting as his back protested- all Galra were pretty strong, but not in similar situations, where the slightest movement required incredible effort. He dragged the mattress out, and lifted it.

“Come on-!” he gritted his teeth, and in the blink of an eye, the mattress hit the ground, kicking up a dusty cloud in the process. 

Keith was certain that it was not going to be easy anyway, but if he’d jumped right, maybe he could avoid injuring himself too excessively. He needed to be strong. For the baby. For Lance. For himself. For all the people that counted on him.

He took a leap of faith, and dropped.

-

Ansty steps echoed on the rammed earth, Lotor closely followed by a horde of heavily armed soldiers. The people of Altea dragged their children inside, eyes wide in horror as they witnessed the army marching right in front of their houses. They shut the windows and doors, lowered the blinds, held their breaths as they pired warily.

Only the eldest citizens had seen soldiers from so close- given that Lance had prohibited any military activity inside cities and inhabited spaces. So why now?, the people asked themselves. 

Why did their leader decide to send out their soldiers and let them wander around the cities, now of all times? What was happening?

Lotor eyed the few daring Alteans that remained outdoors, one foot inside their house for safe measure- he looked at them in disdain and disgust, such pathetic little creatures did not deserve all the luxury they had, not when _he_ was the one who’d allowed Altea to flourish and thrive for such a long time. 

Soon, they reached the intergalactic port, the workers there rattling with fear as Lotor physically approached them, eyeing him with his ice-cold stare. 

Lance had somehow managed to murder the druids with his bare hands, and that meant that he was probably on the run now, fleeing from danger like the _coward_ he was, Lotor reasoned.

“Where is he?” he inquired, haughty. The people there looked sincerely confused, but he did not repeat himself, and instead he roughly grabbed one of the workers there and threw her on the ground, letting her hit her head violently. The others gasped but did not dare to move nor speak a word. 

“Speak, or else.”

The woman rose to her knees, hands behind her head as she eyed the ground, gaze shaky and absent.

“Sir Lotor, I-”

“It’s Prince Lotor, peasant!” he snarled, and kicked her square in the ribs- the crack of bones making everyone’s stomach revolt as they averted their gaze.

“Where is Lance!?” he repeated this time, growling. Some of the soldiers quickly paced toward the other workers and forced them down on their knees, hands held high, guns pointed at their napes.

The woman writhed on the ground, eyes aimlessly rolling, or so it seemed. She squinted, trying to get a better look at Lotor, who was visibly growing more and more impatient with each passing instant. She smirked, and shook her head.

“Y’ll never f-find the Prince…” she wheezed weakly, “‘nd y’ll never repl- replace him.”

She spat blood on Lotor’s boots, and grinned. The shot that rang through the air and pierced her head was shortly followed by his soldiers’, and the workers dropped dead simultaneously without the chance to speak their mind. Lotor did not care.

“Lotor!” came a feminine voice from behind, and the traitor whirled around.

“M’lahr.” he called, and the council member skidded to a halt in front of him, panting.

“Lance- he’s on Daibazaal,” he explained, and Lotor hummed, “Haggar’s spies have seen him wandering in the streets near his ‘secret’ hideout. They said he’s… Pretty out of it.” she announced with a satisfied smirk.

And Lotor did the same.

“Excellent. I am glad to hear such a wonderful tiding,” he nodded, and then eyed the corpse at his feet, rolling it over with his foot.

“Your disrespect and betrayal did nothing in the end, poor soul…” he mocked at the pair of glassy eyes that stared at him.

“Your Highness,” called a soldier, standing to attention, “shall we set sail to Daibazaal?”.

Lotor nodded, “Yes, quickly. We shall not waste our chance to strike now that Lance and the Galra army are most vulnerable.” he lied, and the soldier rapidly left to obey.

To them, he’d told that Lance had betrayed his people, that he’d abandoned them to plot against Altea. Haggar had agreed to keep her and Lotor’s conspiracy a secret, and only the Witch, the formal advisor and their respective close ones knew, making this a secret shared among only a few.

However, Lotor knew well that a group could share a secret if all but one were dead. 

-

Keith limped, panting as he made his way toward the dreaded dungeons, not far from the place he’d called home for so long, reluctant. A clawed hand gripped at his thigh as he gritted his teeth in pain, fur damp in sweat. The landing hadn’t been exactly smooth, and he’d injured his leg- but he didn’t care, now.

He gripped at the sword hidden under his cloak, moving as fast as he could despite the pulled muscle- he thought it was that, but he didn’t have the certainty. If he could free the people in the breeding program, that would mean having plenty of allies that could have helped him to find Lance. That, or a horde of enemies, furious at the dethroned emperor for not having intervened sooner, for having left them in that pitiful condition for so long, because he hadn’t spoken up, he hadn’t abolished the program immediately like he should have. Keith felt a pang of guilt that made his chest heavier, and suddenly he was very aware of the fact that he was probably going to die soon. A hand instinctively flew to his belly as he rubbed it in an extremely caring gesture, and he sighed. 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the life you deserve, little cub.” he whispered, eyes teary. Because the child of his and Lance’s love had nothing to do with this war, nothing to do with the slaughters and violence and misery and despair. It deserved all the joy in the universe, and to live peacefully, surrounded by caring parents. And Keith and Lance were probably going to be the best parental figures for the half-breed cub, but the Galra man doubted that this baby was even going to ever see the light- Keith shook his head, vehemently.

No. He was not going to assume anything of the sorts yet. He still had a chance, after all, and Lance was probably going to join him soon, he could feel him- that warmth spreading across his body, the scent of juniberry lingering in his head, Lance’s smooth touch… Keith could feel _his_ alpha, close to him. Lance was on Daibazaal, he was sure of it.

Keith reached the immediate proximities of the dungeons, and shuddered. Glancing back, he saw the gloomy shape of his palace- he figured he’d walked a bit farther than that, Keith thought to himself. That had been his home for the majority of his days, and also his prison, his doom, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as spending even only a single quintant in the dungeons. He was a child when he’d been forced to watch as the alphas hired for the job raped omegas raw and impregnated them, all day long, thrusting unenthusiastically as the victims whimpered, silent, averting the alphas’ gazes and meeting Keith’s, seeming to ask _why, why can’t you help, why can’t you stop this, why won’t you save us._ There was no light in their eyes, not any will to live anymore. The parturients howled and pushed, pushed, pushed, and fell back, limp, and when they weren’t suitable for the job any longer, they were loaded on a military truck and thrown into the Barathrum. Keith had been forced to attend to that whole gut-wrecking ordeal often as Shiro explained _why_ it was necessary. And Keith, he never thought it was. When he’d tried to close his eyes once, Shiro had beaten him senseless, and after that Keith was too scared to even blink next to the former emperor, the man who used to take immense joy in brutality, the monster that he’d once called _brother._

Keith took a shaky breath and pushed forward, drawing the blade that screeched against its sheath. He could see the group of guards that paced in front of the dungeons’ entrance, annoyed with their job, posture slacking- and he charged. 

They didn’t even see the shiny sword that sliced the ones farther from the entrance, a scream of fear and surprise caught in their throats, replaced by indignation and utter fury as they shot forward, drawing their swords on the intruder, screaming bloody murder as they jumped on Keith. 

“Stop the brat- GUHH!” yelled one, Keith’s sword quick to penetrate his throat, blood gushing out of the gaping hole, pouring like a waterfall out of the lifeless body, and he did it again, and again, and again. He shrugged them off, elbowing the soldiers in their faces as more came to attack him, targeting him, missing Keith by a hair. More came and he slaughtered them all, not even blinking, not making a sound, making his way toward that butchery chaos that he’d made- _they deserve this, they deserve this, they deserve this, they deserve this, they-_

Something cold made contact with his ribs, and then it was hot, too hot, boiling, mind-numbing, wrecking- Keith screamed, eyes wide and pupils pinpoint as one guard sliced his side, just between to ribs, making them crack and bend, bones threatening to penetrate his skin, sword caught in between them as the soldier had to violently yank it to retrieve the blade. 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

Sport of red and black twirled and danced across Keith’s vision as he screamed- was he still screaming?- and impaled the aggressor, and the ones next to him too, everyone, not sparing them the dignity of a last prayer, just butchering meat that put itself between him and his goal.

The last soldier dropped to the floor, writhing and making horrible gurgling noises as thick crimson pooled in the back of his throat, and Keith watched him choke to his death, eyes going dull as life left that body. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t turn around. Shiro’s scares, visible and invisible ones, still ached from that one time he’d looked away. He only prayed to the Gods that the baby was never going to know. _If it’s ever going to be born_ , _that is_ \- Keith thought, grim.

His boots splotched in the blood as he limped inside the dungeons, holding his ribs with gritted teeth. His eyebrows were knitted in agony and dread as he paced towards the chambers. And then, Keith heard it. The sound of death.

He picked up his pace, since he knew the structure well after all the times he’d been forced to-

Empty eyes stared at him as he walked in the corridor, cells on both sides of it, spent omegas not even getting up, sighing, skin and bone, nothing more than breathing corpses. Keith’s stomach churned at the stench of sex and violence. This was not how it was supposed to be, this is not how empires were supposed to thrive- it was all wrong. It was wrong, disgusting, deplorable- Keith tipped, grimacing at the heat radiating from his wound, and he threw up. He had nothing in his stomach, so only acidic, burning bile came out of his sore throat, and he spat it on the dusty floor, choking at the smell, muzzle stained with snot and tears. He clenched his fists tight as he stayed on all fours, heaving and struggling to breathe, attempting to ground himself for these people’s sake, for Lance’s sake too. He needed to get up. 

_“Get up. Get up, Keith. Get up.”_

_“Sh-Shiro, I c-can’t-”_

_“Get up!”_

Keith howled and doubled over, another wave of sick spewing out of his quivering lips as he cursed. The people in the cages only eyed him, but did not speak a word, did not move. Until one, rather short and old, limped her way toward him, stopping in front of the electrified bars. Keith saw the omega- he smelled her clearly- in the corner of his visual, but did not look at her directly, he did not speak to her. She did it first.

“You’re the Emperor.” she stated, slow and hoarse, “But you’re one of us, aren’t you?”. There was no kindness in her words, no sympathy, only facts. She did not seem angry either, thought, and this gave Keith the slightest hope. He nodded frantically, still trying to get his breath under control after vomiting, eyes still low.

“The cub inside of you is in distress,” she noted, “why did you come here, Emperor?”

“I-” 

_‘I’ what..?_

“I’m not the Emperor anymore, I’ve never been.” he muttered, “I’ve never chosen anything, never made a decision for my people, never… Never did anything to save you. I do not deserve the title that my br- that Emperor Shirogane bore, and I don’t want it.”

The woman only hummed, “Are you here to redeem yourself?” she asked, far from fearful.

“I… I am willing to do everything I can. I do not fear death-”

“You do.” she corrected, “You do fear death, don’t you?”

Keith hesitated, and shuddered. He did, because his death would mean the cub’s, too, and maybe Lance’s as well, and he didn’t want to- he couldn’t-

The other prisoners of the breeding program approached the bars too, ears open, eyes looking livelier in the slightest.

“I do fear death, too,” she continued, “and you don’t have to deny the truth. You need our help, don’t you?”

Keith let his head sag, “I- I do… And I’ll understand if you won’t help me.”

“You could order us to do it.”

“No! No, I would never- I don’t- I’m not like that…” he trailed off, “I just… I want to save the person I love the most. He’s- he’s not like us, like _them._ And he doesn’t deserve to pay.”

And the woman smiled. It was a crooked grin, blood still staining her face from the previous beatings, back bent forward, the fire brand that identified the omegas almost faded- how long had she been in there?

“We will help.” she said, “free us, and we will fight this war.” 

Keith’s eyes sparkled in joy and commotion, but an instant later he doubled over again, clutching his stomach weakly as he heaved, choked and sobbed, sick and inconsolable. Maybe he had the chance to make everything right for once. 

-

Thousands of prisoners rushed past him, fleeing from that inferno as they bumped into him and hit Keith, not paying any mind to him, and the young Galra only stared forward, glancing at the distant valley were the prisoners were headed, heavily armed with whatever they’d managed to pry from the guards’ and alphas’ hands as they died of an agonizing death, beaten and lapidated, spat on, burnt on the face- and Keith stood by and watched the upsetting spectacle unraveling before his eyes, disgusted, scared. Seeing the life leaving someone’s body- good or bad that they were- it upset him immensely, it made his head spin and breath cut short, and vomit threatened to spill again but he kept it down and watched, like Shiro would’ve wanted, he watched attentively as the omegas and parturients and the few alphas who were not the ones hired but merely captured and forced to impregnate- he watched as these people gouged the guards’ eyes out and chopped them up. To think that these people had offered him clean bandages and sickness remedy only a few doboshes before beginning that manslaughter- his knees had buckled, and he’d leaned against a dirty wall for support.

And now, they were all pacing toward that damned valley. His destiny depended on the outcome of the fight. His cub’s, and Lance’s, and the former prisoners’- it all depended on the battle. And all Keith could think of as he huffed shakily and dragged his feet was that he had to find help, to get Lance, to flee with him far far away, beyond the galaxy, on the other side of the cosmos, distant from everyone else. 

-

_“We can live together somewhere far, far away,” Lance exhaled, delicately jostling Keith’s head that was resting on his torso as the two laid in bed, “we can find a little house for us and the babies-”_

_“But we don’t have them yet,” Keith chuckled, “you’re such a dreamer…”_

_“And dreamy too, I’d add!” Lance retorted, and the two burst out in laughter. He regained his breath, and eyed the omega, “I’m serious, though… I want kids, if you want too.”_

_“Of course, we’ve already discussed this. I want as many kids as possible!” Keith said with a bright smile, tone soft as he propped himself on his elbows and gently caressed his alpha’s jaw, planting a slow kiss on his lips. Lance didn’t seem as enthusiastic, and Keith pulled away._

_“What is it?”_

_“It’s just… What happens if we don’t have kids?”_

_Keith raised an eyebrow, “Lance- what do you mean? Why- why are you so grim all of the sudden?”_

_Lance averted his gaze, and scratched the back of his neck, timid. “I mean, we’ve been… You know, we’ve been doing it for phoebs now, and you’re still not expecting a baby. Your heat is regular, so it’s my fault.” he shrugged, “and- what if I can’t have babies? What if you’re not pregnant because my semen is flawed? I don’t want you to live a whole life without becoming a parent- I know how important this is to you, Keith.” he explained, “I don’t want to lie to you and trick you into a relationship that will not result in the thing you want the most-”_

_“Lance.” Keith called, and the alpha flinched at the harsh tone, “the ‘thing I want the most’ from this relationship is you. I- Lance, I love you. I love you now, and I will love you forever, kids or no kids.” he reassured, caressing the white curly mane, “We can adopt kids, or simply not have them. But this-” he gestured at himself and Lance, “this will never stop to be the thing I like the most. I love this, I love you.”_

_-_

Keith felt like sobbing. He had never even managed to tell Lance that they were about to become parents, that their dream was going to come true- and that’s why he had to live on. That’s why he had to find Lance and tell him, hug him and kiss him as they cried of joy. That’s all Keith wished for, now. But life had other plans.

 _“Emperor Kogane, it is really a pleasure to meet you again!”_ came a familiar, dreaded voice from behind. Keith whirled around, grip on the sword fixed, tight as he eyed the half-breed counselor- or what he’d pretended to be.

“Lotor.”

“The fact that you remember about me fills my heart with joy,” Lotor spat, sarcastic but never losing his elegance, “it is truly a pity that I have to get rid of you, brat.” he finished, sword cleaving the air as he took two temptative swings in place, eyeing Keith. The omega did not flinch, and did not move either.

“Where is Lance?” he asked instead, snarling as he pointed the sword toward the beta.

“Straight to the point, mh? It’ll be fun to rip the life out of that prepotent grin.” Lotor muttered, “Your precious alpha is gone. Haggar's druids sought to his death themselves.” he grinned, “No one can help you anymore. You’re alone, _Keith._ Alone.” Lotor toyed with him. The two started to move in a circle, never stepping closer to the other, gazes fixed on the enemy.

“Liar.”

“Am I, now?” the half-breed chuckled, “Where is he, then? Why isn’t he running to the rescue? What kind of _monster_ would leave his omega all alone?”.

Doubt settled in Keith’s stomach, making it churn and twist. Could it be true? Could Lance really be- no, Keith could still feel him. That invisible thread that connected them, it was still warm, wrapped around his heart, beating, feeling his alpha’s beat too. But he didn’t tell Lotor, and only grunted. _Better this way._ If Lotor didn’t know that Lance was alive, it meant that he was not going to go after him again. Maybe Keith had a chance to live, and maybe he had a chance to reunite with his love.

And then, Lotor shot forward, fast as lightning, so rapid that Keith almost didn’t see him as he charged for his abdomen, sword aiming straight for his chest- the Galra dodged, flopping awkwardly on his back, and scrambling backwards, avoiding the sword that impaled the ground where his head was an instant ago. Keith got up, panting already, knees buckling under his weight, stomach knotted in anxiety and stress- the baby, he had to protect the baby, he couldn’t-

“What, tired already?” Lotor snarled, charging him again, “I can make you rest forever if you’d just-” 

Keith swung his sword, chopping a lock of white hair, a tiny spurt of blood along the locks as Lotor hissed in pain and backed away, holding a hand up to his mangled ear. Keith grinned.

“I’ve only just begun!” he smirked, and charged back. The clanking of metal echoed in the air, sending vibrations to Keith and Lotor’s arms as they held onto their swords tightly, grunting and groaning as they took each hit without falling, avoiding fatal blows, dodging the unexpected swings of the opponent, holding onto life for vastly different reasons. And Keith couldn’t ignore the pain in his abdomen, he couldn’t ignore the sensation of blood seeping through his underwear- _what’s happening!? What-_

The blade coming toward him approached slowly, time stretching infinitely, tics interminable as Keith watched the tip of the sword pierce his skin right above his hip, sharp metal drawing blood as it made its way in- but the pain never came, and Keith only registered that he was falling, he was falling backwards, and he cried and prayed, but the pain still didn’t come-

 _“That’s- that’s impossible!”_ he heard Lotor snarl, but Keith didn’t open his eyes. He savoured his last moments, he still begged the Gods to take care of Lance once he was gone.

 _“-ith! Keith!”_ he heard. And his eyes snapped open on instinct.

“...Lance.”

The Altean prince stood between him and Lotor, back turned against Keith. Lotor’s mouth was agape, and Lance took advantage of that to slightly turn his head toward his lover. He eyed him closely, and smiled gently.

“I’m sor-sorry I’m late, love…”

“Lance, you… You’re really here.” Keith breathed out. He couldn’t ignore how Lance’s chin and nose were stained in fresh blood, and how bruised he was, bent, knees seemingly too weak to support him any longer, eyebrows knitted together in agony- Keith could recognize that expression everywhere. But he stood, nonetheless.

“How did you survive?” Lotor snarled, “you’re one stubborn bastard, aren’t you?”

“Y-you bet I am.” Lance grinned, and only now Keith noticed the distinguishable rattling sound in his alpha’s chest that rose so, so slowly. He didn’t like it.

“Lance, you-”

“St-stay back, Keith. I can d-do this.” he stuttered when his muscles spasmed against his will. Lotor took notice with a satisfied smirk.

“The druids didn’t fail, after all…” the former advisor hummed with a tad of amusement in his voice, “you’re done for, Lance.”

“M-may-maybe-” Lance spat out, trying to keep the spasms at bay, “but I won’t g-go down bef-before you d-do!”. And with that, he leapt toward Lotor, hands glowing of a burning light- Lotor dissolved in the blink of an eye, and Lance fell to the ground in a heap, grunting at the impact. 

“What the-?”

His sentence was cut off as Haggar materialized behind Lance, Lotor shortly behind her. The cloaked Witch grinned, and stepped toward Lance, painfully slowly, savouring the terror in his eyes. Because Lance had fought druids, but never their commander. And Haggar- he was terrified of her. He scrambled back, and eyed Keith, who had started to stand up, clutching at his side- _is he injured? Is he okay? I have to-_

“Lotor, you take the Galra brat.” Haggar hissed, “I’ll finish this one.”

“Gladly.”

Haggar’s attacks were similar to the druids’, but she was impossibly faster than them, her technique finer and more precise, and Lance struggled to stand up to her despite his newfound abilities. Keith swung his sword against Lotor, but it was to no avail- he was too weak now, debilitated by the injury and the pregnancy, and he saw Lance fighting so hard despite the wounds and the evident distress, and wondered when exactly did he get those powers? Keith didn’t know, but he didn’t care either, now. He just wanted to finish this and talk to his love in peace, tell him how much he loved him, how much he’d missed him, and how they were finally going to-

Keith didn't realise that Lotor wasn’t onto him anymore when he disappeared and, barely an instant later, he saw the blade passing through Lance’s back, piercing his skin and prodding out of his stomach, a rivulet of blood dripping down Lotor’s blade, and another one, soon becoming a river of blood flowing out of Lance’s body at alarming speed. Keith’s heart stopped. Keith couldn’t see the alpha’s eyes, he couldn’t feel him, and his heart just stopped.

_No. No, this can’t be. No. It’s not- he can’t- Lance can’t-_

Suddenly, the ground shook, and Keith, Lotor and Haggar all stumbled and fell. Lance slowly straightened up, unbothered by the trembling ground, unbothered by his lover’s pleas and calls, unbothered by the pain- he grabbed the sword by the blade, metal slicing his palm, and he slowly pulled it out of himself, tossing it to the ground without sparing it a look. Lance calmly turned around, and Keith felt faint. His eyes were glowing of a blinding light, pupils entirely absent, and his hands did the same. His expression didn’t show any kind of emotion, and hesitation as he approached Haggar and Lotor and put his hands on their foreheads. They didn’t move. They wanted to, but they couldn’t. Somehow, Lance had paralyzed them. Lance’s thumbs brushed against their foreheads, just between their eyes.

Keith held his breath.

And Lance bore through his enemies’ skulls, bodies squirming under his hold as he didn’t flinch and only pressed down further, melting through the skin, the bones, the nerves and muscles, the brain. Haggar and Lotor’s bodies fell limply to the ground, heads gone.

Keith got up, shakily, and moved toward Lance, who stood unmoving.

“Lance… You did it,” he murmured, and gingerly placed a hand on his alpha’s cheek, rubbing his thumb on it in a caring gesture, smiling as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, “now come back to me, my love.” he breathed out, softly.

The light dimmed gradually, more slowly than Keith had hoped, and soon ocean eyes focused on the person before them again, blinking sheepishly, a tired smile on Lance’s face as he let himself sag toward the ground, holding onto Keith who supported Lance from under his elbows. Lance laid down, head on Keith’s lap.

His vision was dazed, and blinking did not help to make the fog fade anymore. His throat felt raw and dry, but the blood kept pouring from his lips, and from the gaping hole in his chest. Keith’s eyes fell away from the wound and back on Lance’s face, tears now streaming freely down the furry cheeks. 

“Lance…”

“K-Keith… M’ sor-sorry.” he coughed weakly. Keith hushed him, running a hand through his stardust hair, matted in blood and dirt. His heart squeezed, but he mustered the most sincere smile that he could manage in that moment.

“You saved me, you don’t have to apologise, Lance…” he breathed out softly, planting a soft kiss on Lance’s forehead, “you…”

“M’dying.” Lance stated, simply, “M’dying, ‘nd f-for that, I’m sorry, my love…”

“I won’t let you die. You can’t die, I need you.” 

His voice was watery, barely a whisper as he brought his forehead down, resting it on Lance’s. He could feel the blood rushing out of his alpha’s body, sources depleted, breaths raspy and hiccupped, empty. He was really dying, wasn’t he?  
“Our cub needs you, my love.” Keith explained, plastering a smile on his face as tears dripped on Lance’s face, “the cub n-needs its dad, Lance.”

Lance's bloodied mouth gaped. He gulped, trying to swallow the copped crimson back down, pupils struggling to focus, head dizzy. Had he heard-

"C-cub..? Keith, you- we... A cub..?" he asked, bracing himself to hear that he'd misunderstood, that it was just the bloodloss to make him hear nonsense. But when Keith didn't speak, and slowly nodded, biting his quivering bottom lip, Lance felt his aching chest healing and swelling up in utter joy. A choked gasp of surprise was all that he could manage, though, as he struggled to clear his vision from the permanent fog and the salty tears.

"K-Keith, a cub... You said a c-cub? We're- we're having a b-baby..?" he asked again, and got the same reply as before. His ocean eyes widened in disbelief and happiness, adrenaline coursing through his veins, making him more reactive to the news, but also aware of the stinging pain scattered across his failing body.

"Yes. Yes, Lance. We're-" Keith sobbed, and squeezed Lance's hands in a comforting and reassuring gesture, "we're having a baby, my love. We did it..!" he finished, voice trembling.

Lance felt a renewed burst of energy, but his body remained almost still. 

Lance shakily brought a hand up, and placed it on Keith’s abdomen. His eyes fluttered but never closed, and he breathed out, tears streaming down his face as he choked out a painful sob.

“Our cub needs you, Lance,” Keith insisted, “you promised that- that we were going far away, the two of us and the b-babies, and that we were going to- to live there happily, just us… You pr-promised, my love.” he hiccupped.

“M’sorry, Keith… M’ so sorry, m-my love. My pr-precious love… My Universe…” Lance breathed, hitched and wet, “I d-don’t want t’leave you… I- I want to l-live and see th-the baby…” he cried, and Keith nodded, crying too, wailing as he held onto Lance tightly, gripping at his body.

“Keith… I love you… I al-always w-will...”

“I love you too, Lance, now and forever. I love you so much, my Universe...” he murmured, and brought his lips on Lance’s cold ones, quivering. 

“I… Love… Y-you…” whispered Lance, wheezing, "T-take c-care of the cub… And l-live… On…". His eyes fluttered close, expression peaceful, a hinted smile on his blue-tinged lips. And with a last breath, in the throes of pain, Lance was gone.

The wail that tore from Keith’s throat was excruciating. He bawled, holding onto Lance’s corpse, his head lolling limply- but Keith didn’t loosen his grip on him, claws sinking into the cold, ashen skin as the omega yelled and shrieked, choking as he muttered apologies and curses, as he damned the Gods and- he let Lance’s body go, easing it down on the dusty ground, and shakily gop up. The wound on his ribcage pulsed and bleeded steadily, and Keith felt like throwing up, but he didn’t, and instead he made his way toward his blade, mindlessly scattered on the ground not far from there. Unsteady hands grabbed the sword, and lifted it; the blood-stained metal was still sharp enough, and Keith briefly eyed his reflection. The light in his eyes was gone. Because the light of his life, his Universe- it was all gone. 

Keith dragged the sword, its tip digging a shallow groove on the ground as he paced toward the beheaded corpses. He eyed them. Now that their lives were gone, they seemed so harmless, those monsters that had-

“GAH!!” 

With a guttural scream, Keith stabbed Lotor's cadaver in the chest, digging his bowels out as he cried and cussed, and he did the same with Haggar’s carcass, falling on his knees roughly, ditching the sword and punching the lifeless bodies, wailing. They had killed his Universe. They had killed him. They had killed his alpha, the man who’d showed him what love was, what Keith deserved, what life could offer, it was all gone now. Keith kept tormenting the bodies, fists dirty in blood, bruising after hitting the flash and the bones so violently, so ruthlessly. And he screamed again. Keith looked up at the grey sky, and screamed until his throat felt raw. 

The omega flopped on his back, panting, choking on sobs and curses, rolling on the ground as he curled up in a ball- because his life didn’t make sense anymore. He didn’t make sense. He’d been useless, he’d let his love get killed, he-

 _"T-take c-care of the cub… And l-live… On…"._ That’s what Lance had told him with his last breath, those were his final words, his last wish. _Take care of the cub and live on._

He glimpsed at his bleeding lap, eyeing the crimson liquid that dripped down his thighs- if he ignored it, if he didn't seek help, the cub would...

 _No._ That would've meant breaking the promise, going against the final wish of his beloved. He had to save the cub, now. Because maybe Lance was right, maybe it wasn’t the end, but only a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH, IT'S OVER! Or... Not? Hah, you thought that we wouldn't have killed Lance in the end? You were wrong, though we wish you were not. But the story isn't over yet, and you'll find out soon in the next (and last) chapter! Thank you for always being here, by the way, you guys rock. Feel free to share the story with your klance-loving friends, and follow my beta and I on Tumblr (you can easily find the links in the summary of this fic) for sneakpeeks, fics-related things, headers, and other nice stuff. I personally reply to inboxes rapidly, too, so come and say hi if you please. In any case- see you soon!!


	10. the price of peace

Blood, thick and crimson, flowing steady down Keith’s muscular thigh.

“-barely a fetus, we must-”

Agony, unbearable and gut wrecking, boiling.

“-gonna be okay, you just have to brea-”

Sorrow, it made his throat feel tight, his limbs spasm, his lips quiver.

“-hemorrhage won’t stop, we can’t save-”

Fat, hot tears streaming down his bruised face.

“-abortion or he won’t make-”

Heart hammering in his chest and in his skull, pounding incessantly to the erratic rhythm of his heart.

“-stay calm, you’ll hurt yourself if-”

He didn’t want to hear this anymore, he was tired, he was aching. It was just pain,  _ pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain- _

Keith gasped and shot up from his bed, panting, a death grip on his chest as he heaved and sputtered, blinking slowly one, and twice. Cold sweat dribbled down Keith’s forehead, lilac fur pale in the moonlight that filtered through the window. A thick shiver ran down his spine, and he shuddered with a moan, holding himself tightly as he breathed in and out, trying to slow down his heartbeat, to make out the surroundings. 

The Galra man saw the sturdy, familiar wardrobe just before his eyes, and turned to see the bedside table with his books on it, and the oil lamp. He felt the soft sheets under his body, he breathed the lingering scent of juniberry, he saw the gleam of the fireplace in the nearby room, he heard the rain pounding on the wooden roof steadily. He knew where he was.

_ Home. _

He was home. 

He was alright. 

_ She  _ was alright, too, wasn’t she?

Keith got up, trying to be as silent as he could, and accessed the narrow corridor, walking toward the only other bedroom of the house. The door squeaked, and Keith grimaced, but pried it open anyway, delicately. He peeked inside, his night vision making it possible for him to see in the dark without any issue, and noticed the cocoon of blankets shifting slightly. 

_ She’s okay. She’s okay... _

He entered the room and glanced out of the window, watching the rain as it fell down the sky. Keith had always found it relaxing, and Lance did too.

The Galra man remembered when he and his alpha had been caught in the middle of a summer storm; it wasn’t dangerous, as the rain pounded slowly, but the mud was slippery and getting to their safeplace had been a challenge of its own. Keith remembered as Lance had splashed in puddles and slipped on it, falling on his back, cracking a laugh as Keith fretted over him. Lance had grabbed his upper arms and dragged him down on himself, planting a delicate kiss on his lips, smiling. 

The simple things, that’s what Lance used to like. A thunder cracked, loud, and Keith felt the covers rustling, a little lilac tail peeking through the sides, curling. Keith sighed, and with a gentle smile on his face he sat on the bed. Careful not to jostle her too much, he lowered the blanket- just like her late father, she always slept with her head hidden too- to see two little ears and silver mane. He caressed the hair, fingers cradling through it, scratching the back of the ears delicately and earning a soft purr as a reply, the vibration almost imperceptible. Keith’s chest instinctively swelled up in pride and joy.

A tiny, clawed hand emerged from under the blanket, searching for Keith’s, and he obliged. Her whole hand barely covered Keith’s palm, and he delicately squeezed it, rubbing his thumb on the back of the furry hand. 

“Mmh, ticklish…” she said, pouting, and Keith snickered. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, little cub.”

Keith glanced at his daughter, eyes filled with love, fatherly instincts taking over as he made her scoot over slightly and lied down next to her, hugging the tiny body close to his chest, feeling her warmth, her purring. She was alive. She was okay.

“Why’s daddy here?” she asked, voice sleepy and muffled.

Keith shrugged, hugging her closer, “There’s a storm outside, and I wanted to make sure that you were still asleep,” he said, telling an half-truth, “but I fear that I was the one who woke you…”. He felt her nodding in his chest, and she curled up, tail wavering incessantly, curved and slow.

“I’m sorry, cub.” he smiled, “Do you want daddy to stay here for tonight?”

He felt her nodding again. She shifted on her back, head laid on Keith’s upper arm as she looked at him, pulling the blanket under her chin. The rain kept pouring outsides, flashes of bright white lighting the sky every now and then, closely followed by the impetuous rumbling of thunders. With each of them, Kiethel scooted closer to her father, whining softly.

“Can you tell Kiethel a story, please?”

“Sure, love. Which one do you want daddy to tell you?”

She drew her grey eyebrows together, pondering for a solid instant before flashing a toothy smile, her fangs still so little and blunt, “Can- can you tell me a story about Papa?” 

Keith exhaled, a tired expression on his face as he nodded, caressing her daughter’s hair, delicately. He looked at her fondly, seeing so much of Lance in her; the light hair, the ocean eyes, and that smile- minus the fangs- that her father used to make for Keith only. Surely enough, her lilac fur, pointy ears, tail and thin pupils were of Galra heritage, but the unison of different traits- both physical and behavioral- was extremely graceful, and the cub was incredibly beautiful, the embodiment of pureness of heart. Keith’s throat felt tight, but he swallowed the lump, blinking the tears away.

“Is- is daddy sad?” Kiethel asked, and sat up on the mattress. Compared to her father, she was incredibly small, but Keith knew how Galra used to have a growth spurt during adolescence, and his cub was barely five decaphoebs old. She attempted at cupping her father’s face with her small hands, and pressed her nose against Keith’s, whimpering.

Keith only shook his head, and with a hand he scooped Kiethel up and placed her on his lap, letting her put her head on his chest.

“No, daddy isn’t sad. I was just remembering something…” he explained, “Don’t worry, love.”

“Are you sure?” she insisted, and Keith huffed out a weak laugh. She was just like Lance.

“Yes, little cub, I’m sure. You said you wanted to hear a story about papa, right?” he asked.

Kiethel nodded, evidently exhausted, and snuggled into her father’s chest further, making herself comfortable as she toyed with her tail.

“Well, you see,” he started, voice low and cooing, “before Kiethel was born, daddy and papa used to meet in great secret. There were scary people who didn’t want us to be together, so we were forced to sneak out of our houses and go somewhere else to stay alone.”

“Why were the- the scary people angry at daddy and papa?”

“Because… Because we didn’t do what we were supposed to do. Bad things. Bad things that neither of us wanted to do.” he explained, trying to avoid the gruesome details, “And the scary people didn't agree to that, they wanted us to obey and do those bad things. But daddy and papa didn’t comply. So we used to meet somewhere secret to cuddle.”

“And kiss, too?”

Keith huffed out a laugh, “Yes, we used to kiss, too.”

“On… On the mouth!?” Kiethel asked, whispering as if she were scared to say those words out loud, eyes wide in shock. Keith nodded, a sly grin on his face. The cub’s expression crumbled, she made a face of disgust and stuck her tongue out, shivering, “Yucky, daddy!”

“What? You were the one to ask, cub.” he chuckled, planting a soft kiss on her nape.

“Anyway, daddy and papa couldn’t go out much if not for work. Remember how I told you about that, huh, sort of nursery that we ran? We could only go there, but the scary people had eyes everywhere-”

“Everywhere!?” Kiethel gasped, “Even- even on their bellies? And hands? And under the feet?” she asked, and was deeply disappointed to see her father shaking his head with an amused smirk on his face.

“That’s not what I meant, cub. What I was saying is that the scary people kept a close eye on us, and it was dangerous for daddy and papa to be seen together, out in the open.” he explained, and Kiethel hummed. “So we mostly stayed indoors, and cuddled. And your papa would always cook Altean dishes for daddy, and I would cook Galra dishes for him.” 

“Like- the goo?”

“Yeah, he made the goo for me too, once. Let’s just say that I didn’t like it too much…” he trailed off.

The memory of Lance’s horrified expression as Keith threw the goo up onto his lap, cringing at the sound of watery gelatine hitting the fabric. Needless to say, Lance had never tried to make goo ever again, and didn’t even mention its name in front of Keith.

“But Kiethel  _ loooves  _ the goo, it’s squishy!” Kiethel explained, “I wish I could try papa’s goo someday…”

And Keith’s heart sank to an icy pit, stomach twisting and knotting in agony. Lance’s dull eyes as they stared up at the sky, gaze glassy and unfocused, rivulets of thick blood trickling down his pale lips, chest so still and unmoving- Keith felt like he was back on that battlefield again, holding Lance’s corpse tight, feeling its warmth dissipating quickly,  _ too  _ quickly. It was late, he’d been too late, he’d let his love die. And there was blood leaking from his uterus, dripping down his legs, falling onto the dusty ground- the cub, he had to save the cub, he couldn’t let it die, he-

“-think that daddy’s food is too salty, because you always put too much Jukluz’n into it- daddy, are you listening to me!?” the cub called, pouting, patting his chest. Keith realised that he wasn’t even breathing, and he inhaled shakily, nodding his head and flashing the most reassuring and convincing smile he could muster in that moment.

Right. He was fine. He was here. Kiethel had survived. They’d made it.

“Oh, no, I’m- I’m sorry, cub.” he inhaled shakily, “Daddy got distracted a bit… Can you tell me again, please?”

She pouted, looking away and crossing her arms as she sat on her father’s lap. “No, now I don’t want to.”

“Ow, come on. For daddy?” he asked again, joining his hands in prayer. Kiethel shook her head again, scoffing.

“Okay, then I guess that daddy will cry now, because daddy is sad.” he said, and brought his hands up to cover his face, hiding the grin since he was sure that-

“Nooo, daddy don’t cry! Kiethel was joking!” she immediately said, trying to pry his hands away, “I will tell you again, okay, daddy?” the cub offered. Keith peeked through his fingers.

“Mh… You promise?”

“Yes!” she chirped out, finally removing Keith’s hands away from his face and grinning, “Don’t be sad, daddy!”

“I’m not, not anymore, cub.” Keith reassured her. He brought her close, delicately, and squeezed her into a firm hug, careful to avoid crushing her. She purred and snuggled into the hug, and slumped a hand behind Keith’s neck, grabbing the tip of the ear and fiddling with it, feather-light touch. She yawned, and Keith hummed.

“You wanna sleep? It’s pretty late...” he asked, smoothing her silver hair delicately.

“No, I wanna hear stories about papa… But I want daddy to pick me up and walk.” ìshe said, rubbing her eyes. Keith complied without asking anything else. He simply got up, adjusted his hold on Kiethel, and started walking around the house, rocking her delicately as he did so.

“Papa always brought me flowers from Altea whenever he could. His favourites were Juniberries, like the candles we have, you know? And daddy felt bad, because there weren’t many flowers on Daibazaal, and I felt guilty because I could never repay him for his kindness, but papa didn’t care.” Keith murmured in his cub’s hair. “Here on Olkarion there are many different flowers, so it’s not a problem to find them, but when I didn’t live here yet, I rarely picked them on my own.”

“And why didn’t daddy and papa come to Olkarion sooner..?” Kiethel asked, clearly exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep. Keith’s shoulder sagged slightly.

“The scary people wouldn’t let us escape, sadly. Daddy and papa planned on coming here before having you, Kiethel, but destiny had… Other plans for us, so we had to stay there, at the time. But it wasn’t all bad. We used to have friends there, three of them, very good people who helped us and everyone else as much as they could.”

Memories of him stepping into his and Lance’s safehouse, after the end of the war, only to find Gyvluz, Xa’li and Zuhwa's decomposing corpses on the floor. He’d thrown up violently at the sight, stomach revolting in front of the gruesome scene. Those were his only friends. And they were gone, he’d failed to save them and had never forgiven himself for that.

“Where are they, now?” Kiethel asked, and yawned, sticking her tongue out a bit as she did so. Keith chuckled, but his mood changed rapidly.

“They left, cub. I- I don’t know where they are.” he lied, repressing a violent shudder.

“I hope they’re okay, daddy…” she breathed out, falling into a light slumber, snoring softly into Keith’s chest. 

“So do I, my love. So do I…” he muttered, and headed back to her room.

-

Kiethel came bouncing into the kitchen, running at full speed towards her father. She hugged his legs, and looked up at him with a bright smile on his face.

“Daddy, daddy, can we go see papa today? Please!”

Keith set the cup of Luwzyy down and grinned, ruffling his cub’s hair. “Sure thing, Kiethel. But first, breakfast.” he said, and the little half-breed sped toward the table and stood on the chair, smiling widely as Keith offered her a plate with the typical Olkari breakfast. They didn’t leave in the urban area, but more in the outskirts- after all these decaphoebs, he was still terrified that someone could find him and kill his daughter. She was all that he had left, and the thought of someone even hurting a single hair of her body- it made Keith’s fangs sharper than ever, ready to sink into someone’s throat and tear an artery out of it.

So, one of the advantages of living in the outskirts was that he got to enjoy fresh vegetables and fruits while staying hidden. Of course, he still went to the nearby city sometimes, but he never let his guard down, not for a single tic. And Kiethel was happy there. 

She had a couple of friends, all refugees like them who lived close to their house, and she had a lot of space to explore- Keith had taught her how to defend herself, and she was half Galra, and an alpha too, so her instincts wouldn't have failed her in case of need. Still, he was worried.

“-one more plate, please?” Kiethel suddenly asked-  _ when did she get up?- _ snapping Keith out of his trance. He glanced at the empty dish and grinned, grabbing it and filling it again before handing it back to her. 

“You’ve got quite an appetite, huh? My little cub’s just like her daddy.” he noted, sipping his warm Luwzyy.

She nodded, devouring her food and ignoring her father as he told her to slow down. She gulped the last bite down and grinned, “I had a dream that I absolutely want to tell you and papa about, and I need the energy for it!” she explained, and Keith hummed, understanding.

“Alright, alright. Go wash while I do the dishes, come on.” he cooed, and the cub bolted away with a satisfied smile on her face. And her father was incredibly proud of her, and of himself too. Raising a half-breed on his own, an alpha no less, was not an easy task. But that cub was so kind, so purehearted, so innocent and willing to see more of the universe, not caring that she’d never met one of her parents, consoling his other one in his darkest moments- no matter how much Keith tried to hide it, sometimes he would just end up whimpering on his bed, knees drawn close to his chest, and Kiethel would be there, cuddling him, talking about the animals she’d seen in the garden that, or about what she’d done with her friends, or whatever to distract him from his pain. And it always worked.

Kiethel came back, already dressed in her teal overalls and yellow shirt, a few sheets under her arms as she bounced on the spot, impatient. Her father smiled, and in a few doboshes they were already headed toward the far end of the field.

-

Kiethel arrived in front of Lance’s grave and grinned, jumping and waving the sheets up in the air- not before splashing into a puddle. Keith shortly behind her with freshly-picked flowers in his hands.

“Papa, papa!” she called. She sat down in front of the headstone, and Keith sat next to her- or so he tried as Keithel raised a hand and pointed it behind her. 

“Can- can you braid my hair, please?” she asked, eyes shining. Keith nodded, set the flowers in front of the grave and then sat behind Kiethel, obliging. He was used to braiding his own hair, but he had to learn to be extremely delicate with his daughter, since he had always been scared of accidentally hurting her. And he’d modestly gotten pretty good at it, Kiethel agreed.

“I had a dream where daddy was swimming in a lake, and Kiethel watched from the shore.” she stared, “I wanted to go swim too, but daddy said that I couldn’t go, and I was upset because I really,  _ reeeally  _ wanted to join him. And then there was a bright light in the lake and Kiethel was very scared because daddy was still there, but then papa appeared from the water and he kissed daddy-” she neared the gravestone, cupping her hands, “on his mouth!”. Keith chuckled, and his daughter scolded him.

“It’s because daddy told me that you two used to kiss on the mouth before having Kiethel!” she explained, gesticulating widely, “So I dreamt about daddy and papa kissing, and it was yucky but cute! Oh, I did some drawings about it...”. She flipped through the sheets before grinning widely and grabbing one, showing it to ‘Lance’ first, and then to Keith. He chuckled again, looking closely.

“Is that papa?” he said, pointing at one of the two figures. Kiethel nodded, and Keith hummed.

“But papa didn’t have a tail…”

“He didn’t!?”

“Well, no, but I think it looks very cute anyway,” he explained, and pointed at what he assumed was the lake, “I see you used many shades of blue for this, good job!”

She grinned, “It was papa’s favourite color, you know?” she asked, and Keith nodded, “It’s true, you’re right.”

Kiethel went on talking for a while, long after Keith finished braiding her hair- it wasn’t long, but it still took time. She explained how she’d invented a new game to play with her friends, and how she’d climbed a tree “a million times taller than daddy.” to Lance, and Keith listened despite he’d heard it all already. He listened carefully, smiling at the overwhelming joy that took over his daughter every time she talked to Lance and Keith together. 

“Kiethel,” Keith called, “I have to talk to papa about something, but I need to be alone. Can I?” he asked after a while, waiting for his daughter’s approval. She nodded enthusiastically and grabbed her sheets, “I will go draw something else to show you both next time!” she said. As she ran toward the house, Keith told her to be careful, and once he saw her getting in, he sighed, and sat closer to the grave stone. 

“Hey, my love.” he called, “I hope that you’re doing well, wherever you are. I… I miss you, Lance, so much. I just, huh, wanted to tell you that we’re good, we’re doing good, so you don’t have to worry. Kiethel looks more and more like you with every passing day, and she’s truly amazing, but I’m sure you know already. We’re blessed to have a cub like her, love. I’m sure she’ll do amazing things in the future, just like we did in the past.” Keith said, smiling tenderly, “Her upbeat’s attitude reminds me of you, more than you can even imagine… She’s compassionate, bright, absolutely gifted, just like her papa.” he chuckled. 

Soft fingertips brushed against the cold stone, and Keith inhaled a rattling breath, shaking. It was never easy. It had never been. Still, each quintant was easier than the previous one, and it was a slow, agonising process. Keith could still feel Lance’s delicate touch on his fur, his hands in Keith’s braid, his morbid lips kissing him, his pointy nose brushing against his snout, the scent of Juniberry lingering on the tan skin; he could hear Lance’s voice, Lance’s laughter, Lance’s cries, his every emotion as it flashed across his face and pounded in his chest.

Boiling tears rolled down Keith’s face, and he hurried to dry them, scared that Kiethel could see him so upset and start crying too- he didn’t want to burden his little cub with that. Soft, hiccupped sniffles escaped his quivering lips as he pressed a hand on his mouth, forcing himself to stop wailing. It hurt so much. His heart was clenching agonisingly in his chest, and everything seemed to spin so rapidly- more than once, Keith had considered to give up.

But he couldn’t, he didn’t want to. Lance had asked him to take care of the cub and live on, and Keith didn’t want to let him down, nor to abandon the creature that he loved the most in the whole universe, the one that he was willing to sacrifice everything for, their precious cub. 

“Sometimes,” he breathed out, barely a whisper lost in the breeze, “sometimes I wonder how things would have gone if we’d never met. Maybe you’d still be alive. Maybe not. Maybe we would both be dead, who knows? But… One thing I know for sure is that I don’t regret any of this, Lance. I don’t regret meeting you, falling in love with you, fighting alongside you against our cruel fate, and having the most wonderful gift from you. I don’t regret it one bit, my love. I just wish that- that I had protected you from…” he trailed off.

He took a shaky breath, a hand pressed on his chest as he mustered the strength. “You and Kiethel are my Universe, and if I couldn’t protect you, I won’t let her face the same destiny. She doesn’t have to pay for what our people have done, my love…” he looked up at the sky, a gleam of sunlight penetrating the black clouds. Keith blinked, eyelashes trapped the tears, and offered a soft grin to the sky.

He continued, voice watery, tears refusing to spill again. “It may sound egotistical of me, but… But I believe that we already paid a price that was high enough. You paid it, my love, and it didn’t necessarily have to be like that, but what happened cannot be undone. And your sacrifice, my Lance, I… I think that it was the price of peace.” 

**_fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the_forgotten_daydreamer ’s notes: I can’t believe that it’s really over… This is the fic that took me the longest to write, eight whole months, or a bit more than that. But it was absolutely worth it! Writing this fic taught me a lot, and everyone’s supportive comments and interactions kept me motivated. So, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I also want to thank my dear friend who’s more than a beta, and more than the one who invented this story- I want to thank him because he’s the kindest, most patient person out there, and I feel blessed because I got to work with him again (first time was with [nothing to fix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21545632/chapters/51361981) ). Thank you all! I hope to see you again soon.
> 
> 9melodious_nocturne9 ‘s notes: It's over ... * puts away the handkerchiefs * I'm thrilled this story has finally seen the light of day after so long! Thanks to the_forgotten_daydreamer for spending so much time writing and listening to my very innovative ideas/corrections (sarcasm) ^^" I love everything, all the changes we’ve made in the course of construction, how the story ends, the characters, everything really. And aaaa I’m flattered by the credit you gave me <3 LUV YA  
> Go read the other stories too! They deserve so much!

**Author's Note:**

> DON'T READ AND RUN! Leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this, please!!!!!!!


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